


Kuttler Academy

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: AU Now married, Felicity and Oliver return to teach at their alma mater, Kuttler Academy, a performing arts high school. Felicity was a ballet dancer, and Oliver was an actor. A few months have passed, and they endured their first term as high school teachers, but is this the life they really want?





	1. Another First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my friend Jenna and this lovely little [rendition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7qzmTGkC7k) of "At the Ballet" originally from the very famous Broadway play, _A Chorus Line_ with Barbra Striesand, Anne Hathway, and Daisy Ridley for the inspiration to write this piece. This story is an expansion of the original chapter posted in my _Hiatus Drabbles_ series [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7127041/chapters/16275287).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity are back in school. First days are always difficult, but they manage to get through it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my friend Jenna and this lovely little [rendition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7qzmTGkC7k) of "At the Ballet" originally from the very famous Broadway play, _A Chorus Line_ with Barbra Striesand, Anne Hathway, and Daisy Ridley for the inspiration to write this piece. This story is an a short expansion of a chapter in my _Hiatus Drabbles series_ originally posted [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7127041/chapters/16275287) .

( _Originally via 201 "City of Heroes"_ )

The ceiling light bathed their room in a buttery yellow glow. Felicity tucked her glasses away in their case as Oliver stripped down to nothing but his black sweatpants for the night. Her eyes lingered on him when he wasn't looking, though he could sense it, sense her gaze. After ten years, he knew. With a heavy sigh, Oliver turned to approach his side of the bed.

"Felicity, talk to me. You know you'll feel better when you say it out loud."

Pulling the covers aside for him, his wife muttered, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Honey. What if the students hate me?"

Oliver's eyebrow arched as he got into bed, "Who could possibly hate you?"

Felicity scoffed, "They're teenagers, one minute they absolutely love something. The next it's utter disdain."

"Well, I can guarantee they're gonna absolutely love you, Baby. I know I do." Her husband assured, pressing a soft smooch to her cheek.

"How can you be so sure, and how are you not even the least bit nervous? You're the one, who's taking over Ms. Petrovsky's drama class."

He checked, "A) Because who wouldn't wanna be taught by one of the former lead dancers in the National American Dance Company. When you take the stage, you're still one of the most graceful, beautiful, exquisite, and amazing ballerinas I have ever seen."

"Oh yeah?" She interrupted. Despite the crossed arms over her chest, there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "So I'm just graceful, beautiful, exquisite, and amazing when I'm a leotard, tutu, ballet slippers while under hot lights, is that what you're saying?"

"Wow, I walked right into that one. Didn't I?"

Felicity agreed, "Yup. And I didn't hear a denial yet, Mr. Queen?"

"Felicity, you know what I mean."

She did know what he meant. She just wanted to hear him say it. Loaded silence. Over the past decade, those two had become more and more alike. Stubbornness was a shared quality between them, if they both didn't already pick it up from their mothers.

Following an exasperated sigh, his index fingers aided in connecting their gazes once more. Oliver corrected, "Felicity Megan Queen, you are the most remarkable woman I've ever met. You're smart, sexy, and my forever and always in any facet of my life. Now will you please stop with the pouty face? Neither one of us should go to bed mad."

A toothy smile broke through her icy wall of nerves. His wife relented, "Okay. Okay. I give."

"Thank you," her husband murmured. His face was mere centimeters away from hers. His breath ghosted over her nude lips, "This isn't how we usually end an argument. Or did you forget?"

With a shake of her head, she closed the gap between their mouths, lips colliding against each other in a passionate, heated clash. Though they didn't go any further than that. Oliver and Felicity started their new teaching positions tomorrow morning.

"Mmm I still can't believe I let you talk me into this. Never in a million years did I ever think I'd wind up teaching at my father's school."

"Neither did I."

Felicity remembered, "Seriously though, Hon. How are you not more nervous about this? These jobs are an entirely new thing for both of us."

"I have you by my side." Dimples prodded Oliver's cheeks as he added, "Besides Ms. Petrovsky always taught me while some nervous energy is good, confidence is key."

"It is kind of exciting to pass on what we learned to the next generation of actors and dancers. I just don't know how you wore me down so quickly."

"Need a few reminders." Oliver wondered, fingers pulling down one strap of his wife's lavender nightgown. "Gotham is the city that never sleeps [kiss]. We needed something new, somewhere new. [kiss]. Jobs with a steady cash flow [kiss]. We get to see Dig again and work together [kiss]."

That last kiss was dangerously close to that sweet spot at her pulse point. If they weren't careful, tonight their bed would be used for more than sleeping. While she loved making love to Oliver, Felicity needed her rest. And she needed her muscles to be in peak condition. if she was gonna do any good at teaching young men and women the beauty and technique of one of the most disciplined dances, ballet.

"Oliver, Oliver!" Giggles were laced through her protests. Regardless of their urges, they needed to settle down. She slapped the back of his head lightly, hands carding through his spiky blonde locks to soothe the little sting, "Not tonight. C'mon. C'mon, get back on your side of the bed. We have a meeting tomorrow morning with Dig, which is in less than seven hours."

Next morning, early too, the Queen couple awoke even before the sun. Felicity packed a wide variety of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets in Oliver's large green messenger bag for him. Then she grabbed her leotard, tutu, pale pink ballet slippers, bending the toe of the shoe back for later comfort. She also remember to grab an extra set of white tights, black leggings plus a loose pink and black tank top with white tennis shoes for after class. Oliver whipped them up two easy egg white omelets with julienned kale and some lean ground turkey mixed in while Felicity made them coffee. To think after their first night together in his townhouse just outside of Julliard, she told him that he better not get used to her making coffee for him. Times had certainly changed. After a speedy breakfast, they brushed their teeth together and changed into some of their work attire. After all, they wanted to look professional on their first day. Felicity threw on a pale yellow skirt, comfy black t-shirt, low MaryJane heels, and her signature glasses. Debating whether to leave her hair down or twist it into a typical bun, she kept playing with her freshly dyed blonde tresses in the mirror until she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist.

"You look perfect either way." He whispered low in her ear after he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

She felt the same way about him- not the hair, he didn't have locks that went just past his shoulder, but the perfection part. God, he was definitely one hot drama teacher. He had it all. Those strikingly bright blue eyes, chiseled jawline, sexy trimmed scuff and a wall of firm muscle everywhere, only for her eyes to see of course. Yet, it was hidden under a well-fitted grey Italian suit with a matching sweater vest, crisp white shirt, black tie and shoes, accessorized with a nice silver watch.

While she believed him, Felicity humphed, pointing out, "You're just saying that because you don't wanna be late. This mindset coming from one Oliver Jonas Queen, who had a school wide reputation for being at least five minutes late to nearly every single one of his classes with the exception of Keyanna Petrovsky's drama class."

Oliver replied, "Mmhmm" as if he was saying proudly, "Yeah, that's me."

His larger hand blanketed Felicity's, already starting to pull her out of their master bathroom.

"Wait!" Aww C'mon, they barely made it out of the kitchen.

"Felicity, if we don't leave soon, we're gonna hit the early morning traffic."

"We won't since you drive like some guy with super speed." His wife fired back.

"No." He denied, stretching out the word, "Babe, you're thinking of Barry. Iris told me he drives like a maniac."

With a wave of her hand, she instructed, "Can you please go put our bags in the car? I just remembered I forgot to grab us some waters, and you know as well as I do it's very important to stay hydrated, especially on a day like today - no matter how much it really makes me have to pee."

"Yes, Miss Felicity." Her husband obliged, grabbing his messenger bag and her duffel bag just before he made his way to the front door without her.

She called out, her lips tilted up slightly, "While I could definitely see myself getting used to that, it's only 'Miss Felicity' in the dance studio, but at home it's Mrs. Queen to you, Oliver. We clear?"

"Crystal." Oliver nodded, opening the front door. "I always did like the sound of that."

She knew that. After she graduated high school, the tumultuous relationships with both of her parents never got any easier. Felicity just didn't feel like a Kuttler. Despite her mother's opinion, she never chose Noah over her. Star City just had way to more offer her than Vegas ever did. Including the performing arts high school, the one her father founded in 1990. It definitely helped her get her foot in the door to Julliard. She figured it would, and it certainly did. What she didn't expect was Oliver Queen. Most high school relationships don't have a long lifespan nor did long distance relationships. Dating the founder's daughter came with its fair share of pros and cons. Despite the four year age difference and miles apart, their relationship survived through it all. Well, okay with a brief break when they got engaged the first time, Felicity got cold feet. But that didn't last long. Water sloshed and glugged into their red and green sports bottles. She hustled out of the front door, remembering to lock it before she left. Not wanting to a hear a single word from Oliver about the time, she signaled that he should drive now. They finally hit the road, and they were off to new jobs and new adventures at an old, familiar place.

Their doors slammed shut. Felicity gulped. Standing in the place they once called their second home for four years brought both good and bad memories back for her. In the dance studio, Felicity was very elegant. Her love for dance shined through every single toe point to Grand jeté. But in their regular classes, she especially excelled in math and science. Unfortunately as if her exceptional talent wasn't enough, her babbling blonde bouts of brilliance got her made fun of a lot. Sure, Oliver was physically there with her during her freshman year, but when he went away to college, times were tough. It didn't make matters any better that she just happened to be the founder's daughter. Whispers and rumors spread like wildfire throughout these currently empty hallways. She was starting to do that crinkly thing with her eyebrows, so Oliver squeezed her hand until they got to their old friend Diggle's office.

Before Felicity could even get a word in edgewise, Dig noted sternly, "You're late. You two are both late. Felicity, I expect that from someone like your husband. But not from you."

"It was him." Felicity blamed, letting go of her husband's hand to a point a finger (not the middle one) at him coupled with, "It was her." from Oliver, mimicking his wife's gesture as if they were small children, who broke their mother's very expensive vase.

"Ah, I'm just messing with you." Dig laughed, dropping the whole hard ass boss facade. "It's okay for now. It's just five minutes, but don't let it happen again. Just because you two are my best friends, I can't have other staff members thinking I'm showing you both any sort of favoritism."

"Well, aren't you kind of John since you hired the two of us together?"

His palm swept over his face, "No, Felicity. You and Oliver got hired because you two were the most qualified for the jobs, and luckily for you, we don't have a policy against married couple working together here at Kuttler Academy."

"I still can't believe you decided to take over for Noah at a performing arts high school. Former security guard turned high school superintendent doesn't always work on paper."

"Believe me, I know. But Lyla really loved this place. Since she started working for the president, we actually have enough money to keep it up and running." Dig answered, eyebrows raising high on his forehead, "Walter's been doing a great job as principal. Now I think we should cut the chatter, and let's move on to the grand tour. A few things have changed since you two have been here last."

"Only you would have an office down where the basement would usually be, John." His friend teased while her heels clacked against the metal steps as they re-entered the upper level of the school, "Why is your office down there?"

"To put the fear of God into every single student or staff member who sets foot in my office." The pair looked at him incredulously. They couldn't exactly tell if he was serious or not. "I'm joking. I like the quiet sometimes, and plus the students deserve the best spaces possible."

Oliver practically shuddered as they went from empty classroom to empty classroom, "Geez, it feels weird being back here, especially when there's no else around."

"Poor baby." His wife teased, jutting her bottom lip out. Her fingertips drew ambiguous patterns on his biceps, "Don't worry. I'll be here to protect from the big bad ghosts."

"Felicity." He warned, drawing out every single syllable of her name as smooth as ice cream on a hot day, "You know those ghost stories are just myths."

Dig just had to get in this too.

"Hey, I know for a fact that unfortunately Noah built the school nearby ancient Native American burial grounds."

"Ooh, hey. There's someone we know. Curtis, hi!" Felicity greeted with a wave while they were passing by his class.

"Felicity, Oliver!" Curtis replied, looking up from his papers, "Oh my gosh, it's so good to have you two on board. Welcome, welcome, welcome, come in, please."

"Oliver, Felicity." Dig formally introduced, despite the fact that they already knew each other quite well, "You know Curtis Holt, our resident biology and technical engineering teacher. And Curtis, I thought I told you to cut back on those energy drinks at the vending machine."

At least three long bright orange cans of energy drinks were scattered by Curtis' desk. Those drinks had a bit more caffeine in them than a Redbull. Dig and Curtis' husband Paul were surprised he didn't have some sort of heart condition with all the coffee he drank each day.

"I...uh." Curtis faltered, open-mouthed as he struggled to find the right words, "I only had one."

Dig cleared his throat, eyes darting down to the three (not one) empty cans of energy drinks.

"I've-I've had three." Curtis admitted. His pearly white teeth contrasted his lower lip, a flicker of shame washing over him. "I was up all night grading papers."

"No more coffee, or I'll make sure to have Walter ban you from the teacher's lounge."

"But..."

His boss threatened, "Don't make me call Paul down here to monitor your vitals. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Holt?"

"Sir, yes sir."

Fitting since John Diggle was in the army before he retired to become a security guard. The salute was unnecessary, but Curtis certainly didn't wanna piss Paul office. They kept on with their tour. Felicity and Oliver took stock of the place. Not much had changed with the exception of some more handicapped accessible ramps, elevators, and spots to just hang out. And let the creative juices flow. Their last couple of stops on the tour were Oliver and Felicity's "classrooms" so to speak. If they could even call it that, Oliver's was a large auditorium lined with many, many blue theater seats, a grand stage with lights and stray props, an AV booth. Yes, it also had a typical whiteboard with markers, a dry eraser, and a projection screen because this was a class after all. Felicity's was a spacious dance studio with multiple ballet bars, locker rooms with showers, and more. It may not have seemed like much to some, but as Felicity looked around the room, she realized something. This was her new beginning. This room and its stark white walls lined with mirrors as sunlight poured through the open window was all hers. Oliver, Felicity, and Dig caught up in the teachers' lounge just until the eight o'clock bell. Apart from drama and dance, Oliver and Felicity signed onto regular classes as well. Besides one class wasn't gonna get them paid every much. Felicity handled ninth grade algebra and chemistry in the morning while Oliver taught tenth grade English Literature and Creative Writing.

By the afternoon, Oliver and Felicity retreated back to the teachers' lounge to grab some food.

"I forgot our..."

Pulling out two brown bags, Oliver told her, "Don't worry, Hon. I packed lunches for you and me last night. And Paul was kind enough to stop by the house, and stick them in the mini fridge this morning."

"Why thank you, Mr. Queen." His wife said deliberately. Don't think she didn't catch the way, girls ogled at him. And she wasn't just referring to students. Teenage girls were one thing, but other single and ready to mingle teachers were another. They weren't usually the couple, who wasn't into PDAs at work, but just to be sure, Felicity's hands sneaked under her husband's suit jacket just because she could. Then her mouth pecked his for what was supposed to a sweet, chaste kiss, yet she let it linger longer than it should have until both Curtis and Paul had to purposefully cough their names until they pulled apart. It wasn't that she didn't trust Oliver. Oh, she trusted her husband. That was for sure. It was the ladies around school, who she didn't trust. They looked at him in the way like he was innocent little prey waiting for a cougar to pounce on it. The intentional use of his surname and the kiss were ways to mark her territory. At least, she didn't give him a hickey or start peeing on his leg like a dog would've done to a tree. Oliver knew exactly what she was doing, and he kind of liked it.

He threw in a "You're welcome, _Mrs. Queen_ ," for good measure before they sat down to eat lunch at a little round table with Curtis and Paul.

A History teacher by the name of Isabel commented, "Damn, they're together." in a whisper from a small, beat up gray couch. What? The kiss, labels, wedding bands, and hands on each others' knees weren't enough signals to be some clear dead giveaways? Yes, they were together.

"Forget that. Check out their lunches, and while I'm stuck here eating a vegan salad." Another biology teacher by the name of Brie waved off in a hushed tone, "I mean do you see all that? It looks homemade too. I can see why she put a ring on it so fast."

Brie's mouth was salivating. When Oliver made lunches, even brown bag lunches, he went all out. It definitely wasn't simple ham and cheese sandwich. Oliver made his wife chicken cordon bleu style panini with prosciutto and mozzarella and handmade pita chips with a yogurt sauce along with assorted cut up fruit drizzled in some high quality honey. Felicity was allergic to peanut butter. They watched them as if the teachers' lounge turned into some trashy reality television show. For example, Felicity stopped him from making a "Honey for my honey" comment. Who were they the Hoffmans? Anyway, Oliver made himself a BLT with bacon and onion jam, a kale and strawberry salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, and more pita chips.

The bell dinged, and what would become Felicity's favorite class of the day was up next. Murmurs and whispers were like a wave throughout the room.

Amongst the stretching and warmups a girl named Lauren stated, "I heard this Miss Felicity chick left the National American Dance Company because thought _Swan Lake_ was too played out for her."

"I heard it was because she got married to that hottie of actor, Oliver Queen, and then they had twins." Maks continued.

Jenna denied, "I always thought it was because she had this really bad spinal cord injury after some crazy dude named Damien Darhk brought a gun to her last performance of the _Nutcracker_. I mean wasn't the news around the school about some crazy chip thingy Mr. Holt invented about a year and a half ago? I'm pretty sure it was in the news and everything."

"Pfft, now that's crazy." Maks believed, "You know I'm Kuttler Academy's best gossip guru. If it's not on Twitter or Youtube, I don't believe it."

"Really?" Jenna thought silently with a stoic outward expression, "That's _your_ news scale? Social Media? Open a book. Read a newspaper. CCPN and Starling Gazette were good ones to start with."

"Earth to Jenna." Her classmate alerted, snapping his fingers in front of her face. She went, "Huh?" and he said, "I'm still going with the twin thing. I mean look at that guy. Mr. Mc..."

His thought was a interrupted by their former teacher, Miss Victoria, "Dancers, look alive!"

They all stood at the ballet bar like trained soldiers.

"As my last day here, I am quite please to introduce your new dance teacher. Miss Felicity was not only one of the lead dancers in the National American Dance Company, but during her tour in Canada, she was a much deserved recipient of the Dora Mavor Moore Award. So now I can rest assured that future of dance will follow in great footsteps."

The young dancers all gave her a round of applause. "You don't think she heard my twin theory did you?" Maks wondered, anxiously biting his nails. He hoped the clapping and praise would drown him out.

"Actually, it was triplets." She joked, amusement lacing her tone.

Darn it, Miss Felicity had heard him.

Felicity then proceeded to confirm, "No it was... Well, I'm sure some of you still read the news. You don't hear about the world turning on Twitter or Youtube every day, but it still does. I'd rather not go into it. However, I do look forward to getting to know each and every one of you. I want you all to know that my office door is always open, and it's right down this hall. Also, I'm aware we live in competitive word, especially here at Kuttler Academy. But please don't break each other down. Help each other, rely on each other, be good team players because a show is only as good as its worst performer. Now do we have any questions before we begin?"

Maks ventured, raising his hand up high, "How long have you and Mr. Queen been together? How did you two talented lovebirds first meet?"

Jenna shook her head, looking down at the floor. God, she was embarrassed for him. She meant any questions about technique.

"Okay, well I meant any questions related to ballet, Mr. Bure. But if you must know ten years, we actually met here at Kuttler Academy." Their teacher prompted, "Now if that concludes today's personal questions segment, does anyone have dance related questions?"

The students responded in unison, "No, Miss Felicity."

"Alright then, first position."

An hour later, the class was finished after a practicing twirls, leaps, toe points, plies, and more.

"Is there anything I need to work on Miss Felicity, you looked a little dissatisfied when I did a pas de chat?" Jenna inquired, gulping down a swig of water and her nerves along with it

"Dissatisfied?" Felicity clarified, "Sweetie, no. I just didn't want you to hurt yourself. The pas de chat is intended to be a small leap, but you still might wanna bend your knees a bit more next time."

Maks asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "What about me, Miss Felicity?"

"Your feet need to be closer together when you attempt a tour en l’air, Mr. Bure." His teacher noted, "That can be quite a difficult move. I might suggest working on your core and leg strength before you attempt it again. Swimming is a great way to do that, but don't overdo it. Okay?"

He nodded, and even uttered "Yes ma'am. Thank you."

After ballet, it was Felicity's free period, she should've been going over tomorrow's lesson, especially for her algebra and chemistry classes. But the desire to pop on over to her husband's drama class was just too great. Lacing up her sneakers, off she went to the auditorium.

"Hey." Oliver murmured softly upon seeing his wife sit down in the crowd of students. Her bright smile made his heart flutter even after all these years, and it brought a smile his own face too. Especially when she greeted him with a cutesy little wave with all her fingers. The gems on her rings shined under the lights.

Ms. Petrovsky clapped, getting everyone's attention. "Young thespians, it is my great honor to introduce one of my absolute favorite students ever to grace this stage, Oliver Queen. Though your generation may know him as the lead actor in hit television shows, such as _Artemis_ , _Titan_ , and _Draft Day_. Don't be fooled by his resume, this man understands the life of the theater backwards and forwards. I can vouch for that myself. After all, I taught him everything he knows about the art that is the theater."

Some students clapped while a small group of four coughed "Never was" "Hack" "Has Been" and "Loser". Felicity was about to jump to her husband's defense when he simply raised a silent hand to stop her. The class all clamored with "Ooh."

"That's okay. Everyone is certainly entitled their own opinion. I want this auditorium to be a forum for honest, open discussion. In the event of honoring the idea of open discussions since you were so inclined to share your thoughts, Ms, Jensen. Would you care to elaborate on that initial critique?"

With a scoff, she countered, "Nope."

"Ms. Jensen, the ability to explain and explore the mindset of any character takes more than one word answers, so please, share." Her instructor insisted, "Honesty is a clear indicator whether or not actors are right for their roles after all."

Carly believed, "Those who can't act, teach. What exactly do you know about drama, Mr. Queen?"

Flipping, though the pages of _Romeo & Juliet_, Oliver took a knee on the floor right in front of Felicity, delicately grabbing her hand.

"'Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe

That unsubstantial death is amorous,

And that the lean abhorrèd monster keeps

Thee here in dark to be his paramour?'

_Romeo and Juliet_ Act V, Scene III"

Carly's jaw would've dropped to the floor if it was open any wider. Mr. Queen read that passage with such passion, vigor, and dramatic flair. It was so eloquently acted with a lovely British accent as well. Felicity knew her husband could act insanely well, but more importantly she knew Oliver, the man, and not just the actor.

"Cool, you know your basic Shakespeare." A student named Alan commented. His subsequent questions were weighted with a groan, "But why do we have to continue learning stuff by an old dead guy? Don't they do that enough at regular high schools?"

"Relax, Mr. Tsang. Shakespeare is just the first unit. A very smart person, my wife actually, who just so happens to sitting in front of me, once told me that if you don't know your history, you can't know your present, and you won't understand your future." He remembered, and Felicity's cheeks had a hint of a warm flush, "And I guess, if you're so disinterested in History, you won't wanna audition for a little play called _Hamilton_ I have planned at the end of the term.

Alan sputtered in a quick breath, "I take it back. I-I take it back."

"Alright, then." He laughed, "Ladies and gentleman, please report to the stage. One of the things we need to work are vocal projection as well as the ability to emote. Make me believe you're fighting for your loved one and make me hear you from the back row."

An hour flew by, and rather than asking a question Oliver a question, a young redhead named Maggie asked with a clear of her throat, yet in a still meek voice, "Mrs. Queen, what's it like?"

"What's what what like?"

"Being married to an actor? Is it really cool? I bet you guys get to visit a lot of unique places, travel the world, and do all sorts of fun stuff."

Wow, these guys were loaded with personal questions, but with questions like these, where was the harm? It was kind of cute.

"It's pretty cool, but sometimes it has its ups and downs. We've really only been to Los Angeles, Gotham, Toronto, Vancouver, Central City, and Louisiana. Though we did go to Bali right after we were married." Felicity admitted, her voice dropped to a whisper, leaning in closer as if she was about to share a major, "But do you wanna know my favorite part about married to that handsome guy over there?"

"Yes." She nearly squealed she was so excited.

Felicity admitted honestly, "My favorite part about being married to my husband is people get to see him play these characters up on stage or television, but I get to see the real him. I get to spend every day with Oliver Queen. And that guy's wonderful in a million different ways."

Listening in because of course he was, Oliver praised, "My wife's pretty amazing too. The first time we ever met, it was at one of her dance recitals, and she took a pretty bad fall on a move called an échappé sauté, which I'm probably butchering the pronunciation of right now, but then she got right back up with this huge smile on her face. That takes a certain kind of tenacity. That takes strength. In fact, she is one of the strongest people I know."

Felicity smiled, fighting the urge to kiss Oliver in front of his students. The teachers' lounge was one thing, but his own classroom would be nowhere near appropriate. After all the students had gathered their bags, and left, Oliver and Felicity were the only two left in the auditorium. Reaching for his hand, Felicity pointed her thumb toward the door. But, Oliver, he had other plans apparently.

"Hon, what are you about to do?" His wife asked.

"What does it look like?" He smiled, eyebrows arching slightly just before his arm extended out towards her, "Time for a dance?"

"Um...well, I dunno." Her heart said yes, though her aching muscles said no, "I'm kinda tired."

"Please for me." Oliver requested.

Damn it, there was just something about those sweet blue eyes and little grin that made him look like an adorable Golden Retriever puppy. And how could she possibly say no that cute face? She couldn't. Felicity was definitely wearing the wrong kind of shoes for a dance she knew Oliver hoped she would do. But her shoes squeaked against the floor as she climbed her the stairs to the main stage. Oliver clicked a button on the remote and Clair de Lune by Debussy played from the speakers in the AV booth. While he didn't know as much as about dancing as his wife, he picked up a few things over the years, especially for their wedding reception. He was a near perfect statuesque frame to compliment the pretty vision moving around him. She did a low leap into his arms, and he hoisted her up over his shoulders, above his head, and when her feet touched the ground again, their faces were mere milometers apart. She closed the gap between their lips.

With a sigh, her fingertips clutched his forearms. His hands rested on her waist, Felicity told him, "Thank you for making me do this."

"That decision was all you, Honey."

"No. Thank you for convincing to take this job, and thank you for never letting me forgetting my roots." She explained, her voice full of strong conviction, "As long as you're by my side, I think we're really gonna like it here."

He agreed, "I do too."

Suddenly a man walked in with jangling keys, a mop, and rolling bucket.

With a loud clear of his throat, the man apologized, "Sorry to interrupt the private show, but I gotta clean up in here."

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Oliver realized echoed by Felicity's "Sorry. We're leaving. We're leaving right now."

The got their bags and left. Kuttler Academy definitely had its fair share of memories for both Oliver and Felicity, but they couldn't wait to see what new adventures were in store for them as teachers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@dmichelleca](https://twitter.com/dmichelleca)


	2. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old co-star of Oliver's finds herself in Star City with her husband Ben. With only three weeks left in their first quarter as teachers at Kuttler Academy, Oliver and Felicity are presented with some very interesting work-related offers. The question remains as to whether or not they'll take it.

( _Originally via 406 "Lost Souls" GIF credit:[lyricalarrow](http://lyricalarrow.tumblr.com/post/149772061241/you-can-have-both)_ )

Oliver and Felicity were nearing the end of their first term. They were closing out the day, readying to lock up their rooms, and the couple met in the school's parking lot. Today was Felicity's turn to drive, but unfortunately she didn't feel like it at all. And Oliver could tell by the way, she drug her feet to their black Range Rover. Though, she was still alert enough to drive. Oliver's hand reached for hers across the center console. His gaze was shrouded in concern.

"You okay?"

Shaking it off after she let out quite the tremendous yawn, Felicity finally responded in a pitiful groan, "So tired."

"You look..." Oliver started, biting his tongue to choose his words carefully. "You know what? Never mind. Hon, I'll drive. You rest up."

"God, I've never loved you more than I have right now." Felicity thanked, already unbuckling her seat belt.

With a series of haphazard stretches and butt bumps, they managed to eventually switch seats without even having to leave the safety of their car. Felicity heard the familiar faint click of a belt, her hand cushioning her head from the window.

Her husband joked, a smile lacing his tone in a soft whisper. "Oh, and please don't call me, God. Call me, Oliver."

Smart ass! She silently told him just that with a raise of her middle finger coupled with an exaggerated noisy air kiss. Students' days drug on until three in the afternoon, but teachers days were a little bit more extended until five o'clock with meetings, after school clubs, and simply finding times to tweak their lesson plans. Oliver had a very interesting meeting with John apparently, and Felicity usually couldn't wait to hear all about it. But right now, all she wanted to do was sleep even if it was just for the ride home. And that was indeed what she got, snoring softly as they reached their destination. She felt an usually cold draft for a Spring night. Some soft, yet prickly sensation followed, journeying down her forehead, cheek, and neck.

"No, mom! I don't wanna go to school today." Felicity groaned, clutching onto her desperate need for sleep.

"Felicity, we already left school."

Well, that certainly didn't sound like her mother at all. Her voice was much more high-pitched, and even when she had a chest cold her tone wasn't nearly that deep. Remembering she was in the passenger seat, his wife just gripped her seat beat tightly.

"Baby, come on. We're home." He attempted again, gently nudging her arm.

His wife just whimpered like a tired Golden Retriever puppy after a long day of obedience school, curling herself into a ball as much as she could in a reclined passenger seat.

Adopting a very parental tone, Oliver pointed out, "Felicity Megan, if you don't exit the vehicle, you'll freeze to death out in this garage."

"There's a furnace out here." She believed, a mixture of sleepiness, conviction, and stubbornness threading throughout her every word. "So I'll be just fine. Thank you very much for your concern, my love."

Sighing in defeat, her husband offered, "You want me to carry you inside the house?"

Smirking with her eyes relentlessly draped shut, she bobbed her head up and down softly. Muttering to himself, Oliver gently draped her arm over the broad expanse of his shoulders. Just like when they were first married (and even before that, though at least those times she was wide awake) he carried his bride over the thresh hold, through the foyer, carefully setting her down on the couch.

As soon as Felicity's head hit a throw pillow, her bright blue eyes flew open, chiming victoriously, "Love you."

"Did you just..?" Oliver sputtered, hauling in a couple of their bags "You just argued with me, so I would carry you in the house. Didn't you?"

"Wasn't that obvious?" His wife giggled, leaning again the backrest of their couch.

"You're an evil little girl." He teased playfully, stepping behind her.

"Am not." Felicity retorted, sticking her tongue at him. "You love me."

"Such a diva." Oliver feigned a scoff, rolling his azure eyes.

His wife admitted, scooting up the couch further. "I actually am really tired. I shouldn't have done so many adage demonstrations. It was more murder on my legs, but the pain crept up to my back."

"A hot shower should help those aching muscles of yours." Her husband counseled, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head.

Swaying from side to side, despite the twinges in various points of her body, she placed his hands at her shoulders, "I could really use your undying support and a back rub."

"You can have both." Oliver promised, kneading her upper back at just the right pressure. "As soon as you..."

"Take a hot shower."

"Mmhm while I start on dinner."

Felicity smiled broadly, a sudden spurt of desire colored her voice. "You wanna join me?"

"I thought you just said you were actually really tired." Her husband huffed out a chuckle, tossing a white and red striped dishrag over his shoulder.

"It's a just a shower." She waved off, shrugging, "Excuse me for trying to conserve water."

That notion was met with a snap of an abrupt, yet light swat on her voluptuous behind with the dish rag.

"Ah, bathroom now, Mrs. Queen." He ordered sternly with a hint of playful teasing. "before I let you have your way with me."

"Alright, alright." On that note, Felicity traipsed off to their bathroom, "Hey, um... what was that meeting with Dig about today?"

Drizzling coconut oil in his beloved slow cooker, he confirmed, "I'll tell you about after dinner. I promise."

Twenty minutes, a near fully cooked meal, and a now more relaxed Felicity later, the Queen couple sat across from each other at their little round table -one they preferred to use for more more intimate occasions when it was just the two of them.

"Dinner smells great. What is it?" His wife inquired, fiddling with the strap of her pale pink nightgown. "Although, Honey, I have to say now I feel a bit under dressed."

"I thought I'd try something new - a little food fusion. It's taco chicken matzah ball soup."

Felicity exerted a fake gasp, "That's sacrilegious. And just where are you going, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver answered over his shoulder, loving the way she still watched him walk away after a decade together. "I'm gonna slip into something a little more comfortable."

Ten minutes later, he re-entered their dining area in a yellowing wifebeater and gray boxers. Instead of a dining table, they retired back to the living room, preparing to eat.

"Now this is much better," His wife sighed contently, stretching her aching legs across Oliver's own lap. She eyed the cup of red orange liquid like it was a lab moo. She got food poisoning from that on the last day of their honeymoon in Bali, and that was one Hell of a nearly twenty-four hour plane ride back home. Or worse, peanut butter, Felicity was extremely allergic to that spread. In fact, there was one incident in college at Julliard with a pot brownie, but that was one story for another time. Right now, her husband seemed more than a little distracted. However, he said nothing.

"You know?" Felicity thought aloud, her face scrunching in utter disgust, even though no food had passed her lips for dinner yet. "I'm still not sure about this whole food fusion thing. Hon, I know you're an amazing master chef of a cook, but I..."

Breaking up her babble, Oliver spooned a hearty bite of his own concoction - his taco chicken matzah ball soup- into her mouth after blowing on the spoonful to cool it. Her tongue was greeted with an explosion of mindfully balanced flavors chicken slathered in chili powder, garlic powder, red pepper flakes, oregano, paprika, cumin, and sea salt. The chicken was complimented with a rich tomato-y broth lightened up with a simple chicken base, and the biscuit-like, pillowy matzah ball brought that one single bite all together in perfect harmony.

He grinned, waiting expectantly for her reply, "Well... What do you think now?"

Her face was adorned with an expression he usually only saw in the bedroom. (Okay, and a few other places). It was absolutely euphoric, calmer, and just happy. He loved that. He really did, but Oliver hoped she wouldn't fall asleep right now because they had a lot to talk about with each other. They had a lot of decisions to make in the new couple of weeks.

After a few more heaping spoonfuls, she praised, contently caressing her belly, "It may be the best single thing I've ever put in my mouth, and don't say 'I told you so.'"

"Okay." Oliver concurred in a happy whisper, raising his shoulders as he retreated back slightly.

"So..." Felicity began, drawing out the word. "Are you gonna tell me what you said you'd tell me, or should I go first?"

"Before we decide on anything, I think we should both weigh our options together since this not only affects us both, but Dig too."

In the ten years, they'd been together, Oliver and Felicity never thought they would be teachers at their alma modern, Kuttler Academy. But then again, Oliver never saw himself as an actor, yet he was, and he still could be. If he wanted to be. An old friend raised a very interesting proposition for both him and Felicity - a chance to reclaim a life they were merely starting to leave behind. They loved working at school. They liked their students, and they enjoyed that being educators meant they both had a steady job in the exact same city exact same place, and Hell, they were only literally a few doors down from each other each day. It wasn't that they didn't enjoy doing activities by themselves, but in their line of work, well, their old line of work rather they spent much too much time apart for their liking. And now, they may not even be an issue anymore.

* * *

_**One Week Ago  
**_

With their lessons ironed out for the following week, Oliver and Felicity finally found time to catch up on a month's worth of laundry. She was gathering clothes out the dryer and unpinning her undergarments from a clothesline she had strung up earlier in the day while Oliver was texting on his cellphone before he had to fold the mountain of clothes. Grinning widely, a few of her nude bras contrasted the concrete floor of their garage.

Standing on her tip toes to accommodate his height, the murmur of her minty breath tickled his neck, "You look happy. Who are you texting?"

"Ben."

"Man-crush." His wife forced a not-so-subtle cough from behind his back.

Turning around to face her, Oliver uttered in a quiet, heartfelt tone, only reserved for Felicity, "You know you're the only one for me."

"Yeah," She definitely understood that, a blush creeping on her cheeks at the thought. Regaining her composure, her hands bracketed his face. "So what brought out your cute face?"

"I thought you said my face was always cute - even when I'm being broody."

"I guess, let's go with that." Felicity appeased, loving the contrast of his prickly stubble under her supple palms. Although, they traveled downward, tracing ambiguous patterns over his bare arms. "So seriously what does Shulman want? More importantly, is Julie with him?"

"He wants to know if we're up for a double date at Shimizu's, and of course Julie's with him. They're working on location here this week for _Burnt Bridges_. You up for it?"

Felicity agreed, "I'm in. It's been so long since we've seen them."

"Hon, we saw them last month when you and I attended the _Relay for Dance_ charity event."

"Four weeks ago." She prodded, staring him down. "Four weeks."

"And?"

"I miss talking a woman, who doesn't utterly detest me because I happen to be married to you. This is like high school all over again. Hell, this is high school all over again. All our co-workers hate me."

"Hey, I love you."

"I knew that one." She figured sharply, gesturing to the sparkling engagement and wedding rings on her finger.

He thought for a brief moment, adding in consolation, "Dig, Curtis, and Paul like you."

"Pfft, well, yeah....But they're dudes." His wife argued, pointing out. "I miss having some female company."

"Is there something you wanna tell me, Felicity." Her husband snickered, barely able to contain his loud laughter.

"Oh, you know what I meant, Oliver." Felicity grumbled, poking him in the chest as she warned, "And don't make jokes like that in public, or around Curtis and Paul. It's rude."

Wiping his eye, and that smile off his face. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"I did kinda walk right into that one. Huh?"

"Yeah. One question though, Baby."

Arms crossing over her chest, she obliged, "Yes."

"How the Hell am I supposed to fold these?" Oliver questioned. A pink pair of skimpy panties accentuated with a black lace trim was held in between his two fingers. "See, this is why I like these better off you."

"Gimme those," His wife demanded, extending a hand out for emphasis.

"Let me think about that. Hm..." Oliver chided, pressing a finger to his chin. "No. If you want them, you have to come and get them."

They played keep away like they played basketball out in the garage, and unfortunately for Felicity, Oliver usually had the upper hand because of his height. Although, Felicity had an advantage of her own, being pretty quick and nimble on her feet. Her panties ended up in the back pocket of her denim overalls, and Felicity found her way on top of Oliver as they closed out their laundry session at his work bench with a heated, languid smooch. Moving off from his lap, Felicity's fingertips intertwined with his. She led up two steps back into the house, and all the way upstairs to bedroom without one word. They didn't need to say anything else.

Nibbling on his earlobe, she asked, "We've got time, right before dinner at Shimuzu's?"

"So, so much time. Dinner's at, um...seven or later." His Adam's apple bobbed in a guttural groan, scooping her up into his strong arms with such ease

Multiple orgasms, messy rumpled sheets, and still clean put away clothes (nearly an hour) later, they took a nice quick hot shower together. Oliver donned a casual navy blue two-piece suit with a silk maroon and white polka dot tie, a crisp white button up, black dress shoes, a silver watch with a blue face. Felicity opted for a purple dress with tasteful cutouts, showing just a subtle silver of her toned stomach paired with a sleek black leather jacket, matching knee-high boots, though she was having a bit of trouble with the clasp on her silver heart-shaped locket.

"Hey, handsome."

Her husband's stature towered behind her in the full length mirror of their joint walk-in closet.

"Need some help with that?"

"Uh-huh."

The tricky clasp clicked closed, and off they went to Shimizu's a new trendy Japanese restaurant in the heart of the city. Felicity was finally glad Star City had a decent sushi restaurant. Friday was an incredibly busy night as per usual, but Ben and Julie managed to reserve a table, even before they got there themselves. Julie Austen was Oliver's co-star and his character's love interest on a show they used to work on together called _Artemis_. His character was very special agent Jason Miller, who had superior archery skills recruited by NCIS as a hope to avenge his father's death. Julie Austen played his love interest an IT girl turned NCIS team leader, Karen Fulton. In real life, Julie married an actor that was only supposed to be an extra on the show Ben Shulman. Heels clacked against the charcoal black tiled floor, and Oliver didn't say anything. But Felicity practically squealed with excitement- much like her mother, Donna. Felicity gripped Oliver's hand tightly, nearly white knuckling it. Julie Austen walked in wearing a blush crop top, matching skirt, black strappy stilettos and a beige vest. Ben looked equally dapper in a grey pinstripe sports jacket, navy blue button up shirt, and matching jeans.

"Honey, honey." Oliver cautioned, wriggling his hand, "Loosen the grip please. They'll be here in a second."

His wife chimed sheepishly, rubbing his hand, "Sorry, my bad."

"Felicity." The tall, gorgeous brunette greeted with a smile, opening her arms.

Upon hearing her name, the blonde ran in for a tight hug.

"What's up, movie star?"

"Still just Jules, 'Lis."

"Ben." Julie nudged, directing him toward Oliver.

Felicity instructed, "Oliver," as she made a similar attempt.

It wasn't that the two men didn't like each other. It was just that neither of them were huggers. Despite that fact, Ben and Oliver engaged in an awkward bro-hug, quickly pulling back and returning to their wives' sides once again. Both couples partook in an array of tasting plates- oyster shooters, rainbow rolls, and yellow tuna rolls chased with a few respective vodka shots. They were just about to wrap up their night together. Ben and Oliver ordered some green tea ice cream while Julie got strawberry, and Felicity decided on a simple, but delicious vanilla. It was the perfect way to spend some time in Star City with old friends.

"So you guys sound like you're doing great working with such young, talented kids?" Ben surmised. His spoon fell into his lavender ice cream bowl with a loud, resounding clink.

"This one," Oliver noted, pointing right to his wife, "won her students over right away. Meanwhile, I had a bit more work to do. It took them a while to warm up to me, but they're all really great kids. More importantly, I think they're really learning something from my class."

Felicity nodded in agreement, mentioning, "His students are working on _Hamilton_ , and my kids are dancing their butts off to an original number they all composed called _Flowers in Bloom_. Maybe you could stop by and check it on if you guys are still in town."

"Actually, about that?" Julie began, big brown eyes skidding over to her husband, "Ben and I have news to share with you two."

A wide grin tilted on Oliver's face, he assumed, "You're pregnant?!" Congratulations!"

"Oliver!" His wife reprimanded, flicking the back of his head, "That's not the only news a woman can have. Wait, are you actually pregnant?"

"No, well, we're trying." Julie answered honestly, giggling nervously, "But that's not what we wanted to tell you."

"Jules is working on a new Netflix series _On Pointe_."

"That's great." Oliver stated, squeezing his friend's shoulder, "I'm really happy for you."

"That leads me to my next question. They need someone who really knows ballet, and they're also casting my love interest. I've chemistry tested with so many actors, and they're all so... green. It's not a guarantee, but I recommended the two of you. Oliver, critics and fans have always said our chemistry leaps off the screen. And Felicity, I don't know anyone who understands ballet better than you."

Felicity chewed on her magenta stained lip, "We...We'll obviously need some time think about this."

"You should know that the show films primarily in Gotham." Julie informed, advising, "Maybe just send in an audition video, and if you get a call back we'll see where it goes. I can think of no couple better than you two for this kind of show. Again, it's not a definite guarantee. But my showrunners Susan and Robert really seem to like the idea. Think about it. We shoot the pilot in a month and a half, so you both have plenty of time to make a final decision."

High beams from their Felicity's red Camaro lit their way home. New job opportunities certainly wasn't the kind of news they were expecting. Yes, it still managed to resolve the long distance problem in their marriage. But it brought up a greater emotional issue. So much of their lives were in Star City. They met here. They fell in love with each other here, and they started a a new chapter in their lives here. Regardless of how difficult teaching could be, they both really enjoyed the slower change of pace. More that that, each one of their students had really taken a liking to them, and they couldn't just give all that up with a simple finger snap, riding wherever the wind took them. Oliver and Felicity both knew they couldn't just say, "Hey, let's move to Gotham, and leave our entire new life behind." Though, they did still have their loft in Gotham just in case. Oliver could see how this offer really blindsided Felicity. It was part of the reason she insisted on driving home tonight. Well, other than the fact that Oliver had a couple more vodka shots than her. The car was enclosed in a shield of silence. The only noises that penetrated that barrier were the hustle and bustle of traffic. Oliver captured the sight of his wife, his hand tapping rhythmically against his own thigh. Her eyes narrowed on occasion at red lights. Her eyebrows crumpled into that usual crinkly thing she did when she wasn't alright. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than usual, typically unnoticeable to someone who didn't know her. But as her husband Oliver knew Felicity like the scar on his bad knee from a stunt work accident.

As the car came to a stop, and Felicity pulled the key out of the ignition, Oliver spoke up, reminding, "You know, we don't have to decide on anything right, and whatever that decision is we'll make it together."

"I know," The belief shone in her voice, but not her eyes.

He requested, reaching for her hand as he enunciated every single syllable of his wife's name, "Felicity... It's gonna be okay.

"I hope so, Honey." She replied honestly, loosely linking their fingertips together when they walked inside their house.

They already made love earlier in the day while they were no strangers to a second round or third in a twenty-four hour time span. Tonight, they just wanted rest. They need sleep desperately, but Felicity was flopping back and forth on her side of the bed like a freshly caught Marlin.

A buttery yellow light illuminated their room. Oliver pulled Felicity over to him, situating her over his bare torso. His fingers splayed over the small of her scarred back, paying extra special attention to one single bullet wound, which marred the base of her spine. She purred like a kitten, comforted instantly by his delicate touch and the constant drum of his lulling heartbeat thumping against her ear.

"What's got you so worried?" Oliver prompted in a barely audible whisper, continuing his ministrations. "Please talk to me. Tell me."

Her reply was muffled against his strong chest, but he still caught it.

"That we're gonna let our students and Dig down."

"If it's a yes, which again we don't have to decide right now, we'll give him over two weeks notice."

"And if it's a no?"

"Then, we have each other. Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy, but we'll get through this. I mean, we've been through much worse than this before."

"I know. I know. I just don't wanna disappoint anybody."

"You won't."

Her chin prodded his pecs, looking at him directly, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're... _you_ , Felicity."

She whined, "That's not a good enough answer."

"Sorry. I don't my best when work when I'm tired, so get some rest, and we'll talk about this more later on. Okay?"

"Okay." She relented, "Hey, Oliver?"

"Hey Felicity?"

"I love you."

Despite the darkness shadowing their room after he turned off his lamp, his "I love you too," was met with even breathing.

* * *

_**Present Day  
** _

The meeting with Dig was to tell him about their other job offers. While John wasn't thrilled with idea of losing his friends to the bright lights of Gotham and wherever they traveled, he understood it. He understood passion and drive like no one else. Those same feelings prompted him to do the same Lyla suggested he become a superintendent . Together, he and Walter took over Noah to give future artists that gumption, that determination, that chance to learn and become better at their craft. Monday rolled around faster than Oliver and Felicity would've liked it too, and at this point they had already made their final decisions. Now it was just a matter of telling Walter and John.

A symphony of colorful duffel bags were being zipped shut at the end of Miss Felicity's ballet class.

"See ya later, Miss Felicity." Maks bid goodbye with a wink.

"Bye Maks," she called out, cupping the side of her mouth, "Remember to stay hydrated. It's a hot one today."

Maks fiddled with his glasses, adjusting the angle as he went on about the rest of his day. As Maks left, Curtis popped on in, rapping against a brick pillar.

"Mr. Holt." Felicity greeted cordially, "to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure."

"Oh, girl, cut the formal crap." He advised, seriously wondering, "Is it true?"

Meanwhile, outside in the hallway, Maks realized he wasn't hearing a familiar sloshing at the side of his backpack.

Maks realized, looking at his digital wristwatch, "Shoot, I forgot my water bottle. Ah, I guess I have time to get it."

His sneakers squeaked against the waxed linoleum floor, running back to Miss Felicity's class in a haste. He was just about to step back inside the dance studio when he heard, "Is it true?"

"Yes," Miss Felicity confirmed.

Maks smirked, thinking to himself as he hid behind a large heavy metal door, "I smell some juicy gossip."

"So when are you two gonna tell Dig and Walter?"

"Tell the superintendent and principal what exactly?" Her student pondered, remaining as quiet as possible.

And, for a teen gossip hound like Maksim Bure that was no easy feat, but his lips were practically sewn shut while he honed in for more scoop.

Miss Felicity said, sucking in her lower lip while she stared at the dance floor briefly, "Today at our four o'clock meeting."

"Okay." Mr. Holt took in a sharp breath, "Good luck you two. You're gonna do great."

"That's it. That's all I got." He muttered to himself, "I need to know more."

Felicity's ears perked up at an odd hissing noise.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Maks stepped out from behind the large door, legs quivering in his black skinny jeans with his next two movements. "Hi, um...it's just me, Miss Felicity. I forgot my water bottle."

"Oh yeah? Is it that gray one right there?"

"Uh-huh."

Color Felicity perplexed, she eyed Maks cautiously, "You alright, kid?"

"Yeah... Yep, uh-huh."

"You sure?" She noted, the concern evident on her face, "because you're sweating more than you did during today's lesson. Maybe you should go to the nurse's office."

"No, no." He denied, easily fibbing, "like you said 'it's a hot one today' and I might just have pre-show jitters."

"Oh, well, I have the perfect cure for that. You rest up, drink lots of water, and we'll work on it tomorrow. Fun freestyle dances always helped me. Alright, don't worry."

"Well, I guess I'll just be on my way. Bye again." He waved, running off to his next class.

Curtis' face scrunched, stroking his chin slightly, "That kid seems like a bit of an oddball."

"Be nice," His friend stated, biting back a snicker. "He's just a little...eccentric. If Maks doesn't make it as a professional ballet dancer, he'll make it somewhere else."

Maks continued on with his day, but as he sat through his regular core classes all he could think about was what Miss Felicity hiding. Was she sick? No, Mr. Holt mentioned something about his teacher and someone else - someone that clearly had to be that hottie drama teacher Mr. Queen. God, he was so dreamy. In fact, Mr. McHottie was Maks' not so secret nickname for him. Gosh, Miss Felicity sure was lucky, and he was pretty sure Mr. Queen would say the say about her.

"Old people are cute like that," the young man thought to himself, his reflection distorted in his bright, red, shiny apple.

He spotted the couple as they stood in line to purchase two small cartons of chocolate milk, probably readying to go to the teachers' lounge. Maks saw it, a gesture that was quite nuanced for those lovebirds, although he managed to catch it quickly - a hand drifting down to her belly. That was strange. God forbid, his mother would have his head for jumping to this conclusion. But pregnancy was ruled out because no one could dance she did in class with a baby on the way. He hoped she wasn't sick, but there was nothing he couldn't find at his own school. After all, Maks was Kuttler Academy's best gossip hound.

Away from Maks' earshot, her husband observed, "Your stomach's not feeling any better?"

"No," She burped, covering her mouth, "You know maybe I ate too fast."

 "Maybe." He promised, subtly caressing her bloated belly, "We still have soup in the fridge at home, and we should pick up some Pepto on the way home."

"Oh..." Her reply was interrupted by a huge belch, "Kay."

Lunch passed, and Maks was awaiting for his friend Carly to return from Mr. Queen's drama class.

Eyeing a familiar red head in a black beanie, Carly sang,"Oh, let me be a part of the narrative. In the story they will write someday. Let this moment be the first chapter..."

"You're playing, Eliza." Maks gasped, pitch rising an octave or so higher than his normal tone. Although, his excitement quickly dissipated as he ordered, dragging his friend off to his locker, "Come with me, we have much to discuss."

When they reached his locker by the water, he waved his arm in a 'come hither' motion, and when she didn't budge, he did it again.

"Carls," Maks grit through clenched teeth, adopting a much firmer tone than before.

"Okay, okay. I'll play along." His friend caved with a sigh, thumbs slipping through her belt loops, "But you're being weird, M, even for you."

Staring at wide-eyed with just a glimmer of crazy, Maks addressed right away, "Did Mr. Queen seem weird in class today to you?"

"Nope," She shrugged, shooting him a poignant look, "But Principal Steele came in, and they whispered something to other. Rumor from Alan is that they're quitting, and soon."

"They hate us that much?" He believed, "But you guys have _Hamilton_ and our dance number is gonna be off the hook."

"Dude, no one's said 'off the hook since the early 2000's."

He ignored that comment, slumping against his locker in consternation as he wondered if it was something the class did to make them leave. Who wouldn't want a washed up actor and dancer, anyhow? Where were they going to go from here. The final bell rang for students at three on the dot. However, Oliver and Felicity had ultimately made their choices. Four o'clock struck, and the couple joined hands as they stepped downstairs to meet Dig and Walter.

"You ready for this?" Oliver asked in hesitation, exhaling an anxious breath.

She just shook her head, and squeezed his hand tighter.

Her heels clacked against the floor as the couple descended down the stairs, and Oliver's heavier footstep followed in time with hers.

Arms crossed over his broad chest, Dig announced, "Walter, I believe the Queens have some exciting news to share with us."

"I see," Walter acknowledged, tightening his blue houndstooth print tie.

Felicity began, "Gentlemen..."

"My wife and I have reached our final decision as to whether or not, we'll be teaching here at Kuttler Academy for the next term."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
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> Twitter: [@dmichelleca](https://twitter.com/dmichelleca)


	3. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity have made their decision together, but after some unforeseen circumstances they doubt as to whether or not it was the right choice.

_"You ready for this?" Oliver asked in hesitation, exhaling an anxious breath._

_She just shook her head, and squeezed his hand tighter._

_Her heels clacked against the floor as the couple descended down the stairs, and Oliver's heavier footstep followed in time with hers._

_Arms crossed over his broad chest, Dig announced, "Walter, I believe the Queens have some exciting news to share with us."_

_"I see," Walter acknowledged, tightening his blue houndstooth print tie._

_Felicity began, "Gentlemen..."_

_"My wife and I have reached our final decision as to whether or not, we'll be teaching here at Kuttler Academy for the next term."_

* * *

 So much rang through both of their minds all at once. Could they actually do this? Was it the right decision? They knew this choice wasn't something they could back out of at any given time, but maybe...just maybe there could be a compromise, if that was even possible.

Biting her lip, Felicity announced in a rapid breath, "We chose the job in Gotham."

"I see," Dig sighed, not daring to look at either of them right now. "Well, I guess we better start looking for two new teachers."

Dig was a pretty understanding guy to say the least. However, he couldn't fathom why they made this choice. Sure, there was the money, and they still got to work together. But what about when _On Pointe_ ends? What were Oliver and Felicity going to do when they weren't filming the show, taking into account that it was a Netflix series. He thought that they were both happier here back in Star City than the consistent busyness of Gotham. Dig knew the entertainment world lacked stability. Funnily enough, it was kind of ironic, considering he was the current superintendent of a performing arts high school.

"Actually," Oliver continued hesitantly. Did Dig just hear a bit of shakiness in Oliver's voice? That was definitely a rare moment.

Dig raised an eyebrow as his friend added, "We were wondering if those two teachers could be a temporary hire."

"Excuse me?" Walter huffed out a bitter chuckle, slapping his palms against Dig's desk as he stood up, "Are you two daft? You're both quitting, and now you're asking for a favor."

"A favor that would cost the school's budget more money in the long run." Dig noted, palm sweeping over his face in annoyance.

"Hey, man." Oliver piped up, reminding him. "Wouldn't that be a similar situation to the teachers that go abroad with their students for a term? Curtis mentioned when he and Paul went to Italy."

"No!" Dig replied a little more sharper than he originally intended, "because that was a paid four month trip while they were teaching abroad in Italy."

"You two are asking us to hold your jobs while you both go to work on another one." Walter berated, stepping around the desk, "That idea alone is unheard of, absolutely insane, and stupid."

Felicity humphed indignantly, stepping closer to him, "I'm not sure I like your tone, Mr. Steele."

"Hon." Her husband reeled her in, seeing Dig and Walter's points, "We should just go."

As the couple stepped back to the main floor, their friend called out, "I hope you know this decision doesn't mean you can skip out of this term early."

"Of course not, we wouldn't dream of it. And John, we do want to thank you for giving us this opportunity. We love working here, and those kids are amazing, but this was just never a part of our plan." Felicity turned on her heel before they reached the top steps.

Dig replied with only a solemn nod as he watched the Queens walk away together. Just like they had time and time before the trio reunited again in Star City. A part of him understood it, and he certainly didn't see their joint decision as selfish, considering that they wanted to return to Kuttler Academy after working on the first season of this infantile Netflix series. Although, others like Walter might think of that. way No, he saw it as the Queens continuing on their journeys in the entertainment business. They still had a passion and drive for their respect arts -acting and dancing. Sighing heavily with a shake of his head, he just hope their choice wouldn't bite them on the ass in the long run. And in this business, it sure as Hell had a great chance of doing just that. A part of him was also angry. He stuck his neck out for both of them, gave them this job opportunity, and now they were just throwing it all away in a short span of four short months. It was such a same.

Oliver pulled his wife in gentle hug. Their nervous heartbeats slowed in each others comforting embrace.

His voice was soft, serene like it always with her, and just for her. Although, a hint of worry was still threaded throughout his tone, "We made the right choice."

"You wanna try that again?" A breathy laugh was muffled against his torso.

Adopting more confidence - the same confidence he has on a set or stage, her husband reiterated, "We made the right choice."

Pulling away, she doubted, "I hope so. I really do, Honey."

Felicity hand scratched over Oliver's back ever so slightly, just because he really liked that- not enough to hurt but just enough to give him a feel. His eyes fell shut, relaxing into his wife's usually private gesture. A minute rumbling, yet content sound billowed up out of his throat in a low tone. They took it all in, and they weren't even at their last day yet. It felt a bit reminiscent of Felicity's graduation. So much of their life together, and the first year of their relationship flourished here. Oliver was Felicity's first everything - her first kiss, her first slow kiss against the lockers, and ultimately her first time. They encouraged each other when times were darkest, and growing up as the founder's daughter with parents who were also in the midst of an extremely messy divorce, times were tough. School bullies made Felicity's high school experience even more difficult.

* * *

  _ **Ten Years Ago** _

Felicity's bright blue eyes opened wearily to the annoying rhythmic beeping of her alarm clock. After the third beep, her fist slammed against a purple button, stopping the nuisance. Her back cracked, languidly stretching her limbs as she exited the comfort of her twin bed. She made a quick trip to the bathroom in the hallway, washing the crusty remains of eye boogers from sleep. She threw on a clean discarded black Fall Out Boy t-shirt over top her a light gray pair of skinny jeans, and a pair of matching black Converse sneakers. Assuming the proper facial position, she applied light makeup to her face- foundation, concealer, a dust of translucent matte power that her mother swore by, a touch of mascara, a sweep of some peachy pink blush across the apples of her cheeks, and a light shade of berry lip gloss. She knew it would get some use today now that she was dating high school senior, Oliver Queen.

Her parents were more than a little concerned, but her father especially so. What did a high school senior want with freshman? Well, other than sex. Clearly, they had heard about his reputation of being quite the ladies man, but that was just it. His reputation was all talk, and chatter spread around campus like wildfire. The truth was he only had one other girlfriend at sixteen before he started dating Felicity. Her name was Samantha Clayton, and they had met in English class. Unlike some girls at school, Sam was really sweet to Felicity. She showed her around campus, even though she figured Felicity knew it already because her dad founded the place, but still first days could be scary. They didn't interact much past that due to fact that Samantha was a junior, and Felicity was a freshman. However, Samantha was great at helping Felicity with English essays. Oliver and Samantha had stopped dating after about a year. Although, he had this false reputation of being a ladies' man because girls like Laurel Lance attempted to throw themselves at him. While he was flattered, Oliver was a one-woman kind of man, and currently that "woman" was Felicity. Unfortunately, Laurel spread awful rumors about what a supposed playboy he was. To think, Oliver bought muffin baskets to support her campaign as student body president. It was either her or a red head named Donnie, and nobody wanted him to win. It was her first year, and even Felicity could see that Donnie was a little power hungry.

The truth was that Oliver was a wonderful guy in a million different ways, and he sure was a Hell of a kisser. Every day since they got together, they would meet up for their usual morning make out session at her locker, and they'd reunite at lunch. Despite the fact that her parents raised her to be a very strong independent woman. She found it kind of cute when Oliver took the liberty of buying her a carton of chocolate milk or green apple slices with sun butter because she was allergic to nuts. They'd sit together at lunch, and talk about their day thus far. He was quite gentleman, draping his light blue denim jacket over her shoulders. And he never pressured her into anything. For God's sake, he even asked if it was okay to kiss before he did so during her very first kiss.

Sighing at the memory, Felicity pulled her long wavy reddish brown tresses into a messy and grabbed her book bag along with her vibrant purple duffel bag. She made sure she had her regular textbooks, leotard, sweats, pointe shoes, and lots of water.

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she heard her mother bellow, "Felicity Megan."

"I'm coming," her daughter snapped, and while Donna wasn't right next to her, she could just hear that typical teenage attitude dripping in her rather short response.

"Cut the sass, missy." Donna warned loudly since Felicity still hadn't made her way downstairs, "Get your skinny little behind down here, and eat a good hearty breakfast."

Grunting as she lifted both bags, Felicity did just that. She trudged her way down the stairs, mindful of her heavy. Her face was currently adorned with a look that read "I hate life, and everything in it right now." But in all honesty, that wasn't the problem. It was what was going to come next that was the real major issue her - her parents fighting. She thought once they got the divorce, and he moved out of the house the yelling, name calling, arguing, and all the back and forth would officially be over for good. But since she began her school year at Kuttler Academy.

With a hand resting on her light pink sweatpants, adorned with rhinestones of course, Donna prodded, "Baby girl, would it kill you to put a smile on your face? It's a brand new day."

Honoring her mother's request somewhat, her lips curled in a forced grin. Though, it quickly fell as soon as she heard her mother's wedge heeled flip flops clomp against the white and black tiled floor. When Felicity slowly entered the kitchen, taking wary steps inside she finally smelled it- that familiar pugent acrid smell of dough. Donna hastily retrieved a chard, blackened waffle from the toaster.

"Oh...wow!" Felicity mentioned, mouth left slightly agape. Though, this was certainly nothing new, and she wouldn't expect anything less from her mother. "Thanks, mom."

"Well, I know Eggo waffles are your favorite, sweetie."

They were, but not like that. Not like that at all. Despite her reservations, Felicity sat on a bar stool seated at the kitchen counter, mentally preparing her stomach for an extremely distasteful bite of food. She picked her fork at a turtle's pace. She gulped, staring at the extremely charred waffle for a long time.

"What's the matter, Honey?" Donna wondered, lightly smacking her own forehead at the quick realization, "Oh, I know what it is. I forgot those diced strawberries you love so much."

Donna pulled out a haphazardly uneven cut of various strawberry slices from the fridge, immediately sprinkling them on the waffle, which was probably getting cold by now.

"Yum!" Felicity exclaimed, desperately trying to conceal her uneasiness about it.

"Eat up. I don't want you to start the day off on an empty stomach. It's like your bubbe always told me, 'Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, my dear.'"

"Right." Her daughter concurred, forking a bit of charred waffle with a strawberry chunk that dripped with a little pink juice dribble. "Here we go. We're going, and now...Mmm. Yummy!"

The tiny bite of waffle crunched in her mouth while she endured several slow chews, and a disgusting combination of burnt dough and possibly old strawberry. Just as she was about to reluctantly swallow the bite, the doorbell rang. Praise, Jehovah and Yahweh, her prayers were answered for once. Before Donna could even open the front door, Noah used an old copy of his key, marched straight in the kitchen, and stood beside his daughter.

"Spit," Her father commanded, holding out the palm of his hand.

"Hey." Donna complained, huffing in exasperation, "Noah, you can't just waltz in here and insult my food."

With a mouthful, she fibbed, rubbing her belly, "It's so yummy, dad. Shee, mmm."

"Mmhm." Her hummed in disbelief, knowing exactly what Felicity was doing. On that note, he distracted Donna, pointing out, "Hey, D. That Calico's in your yard again."

"The what?" His ex-wife questioned, turning her back as she looked out the window. Upon seeing a furry gray creature, "Oh, just say cat, smart ass. What a cutie! Boy, I wish I could give the little guy a nice bowl of milk."

As soon as Donna's back was turned away, Felicity gratefully spit the chewed up waffle right in her father's bare palm.

He wiped off the remnants of chewed, mushy food with a clean white paper napkin, thoroughly washing his hands.

Donna's ears were keen to running water. Her facial expression read, "Really? Again?" However, she didn't say anything. She knew she wasn't much of a cook in the kitchen. Regardless of the fact that she now figured her daughter lied to her. However, Donna understood that it was merely to spare her feelings.

A disappointed sigh escaped her lips, elbowing Noah in the ribs, "Did you just call me, _D_? Really? You're calling me, D? Are you still calling me, D? You lost that privilege years ago, mister."

"Oh, please." Noah scoffed, looking away from Donna, "You really wanna start this up again, D. Like the divorce was all my fault."

Geez, her parents could fight over the smallest things like a nickname. The kitchen soon became a verbal war zone as Donna and Noah traded insult after insult. It was odd that arguments were a normal occurrence in her home still to this very day. even after they were divorced Her parents wordy jabs at each other were growing tiresome. She couldn't even make out what they were saying anymore. Noah and Donna seemed to argue any chance they got. It was incredibly annoying.

When her mother grabbed a plate, ready to throw at her father's head, Felicity intervened. With her fingers nestled in between her lips, she emitted a rather loud whistle, effectively ceasing all the yelling.

"Yes, Baby?" The former couple said in unison, finally bringing their attention to their only daughter.

"Thank you." Felicity pleaded, "Now can you guys pick a better time to fight over something less stupid?"

Ooh, if she wasn't careful she'd be in huge trouble, judging how Donna gave a side-eyed glance that burned with a clear warning. "Felicity Megan, you watch your mouth."

Sighing in defeat, Noah stepped back, realizing she actually did have a point, and a good one at that.

"I haven't even eaten breakfast yet, and I have to be at school in thirty-five minutes."

"We'll stop by Jitters on the way there." Noah offered, checking his watch, "And school doesn't start 'til 8:15."

Donna giggled knowingly, elbowing her ex in the ribs. "That's not why she wants to be at school early."

"Mom, please," Felicity insisted, a warm flush heating her cheeks as she fought to hide that happy smile that was always on her lips whenever she was around him.

"It's Oliver." Her mother teased lovingly, practically singing his name, "Isn't it, Honey?"

"Maybe." She chimed, and that was all they were getting out of her.

"Yeah, I don't think I wanna know." Noah mentioned, grabbing one of his daughter's bags, "Let's just get you to class."

"And as far away from the Queen boy as possible," Her father muttered under his breath.

For the first time that morning, Felicity's face was plastered with a genuine smile. "I heard that, Dad."

"Good. You were supposed to."

"Hey, maybe tomorrow I can take you to school?" Donna suggested hopefully, jingling her keys.

"D-Donna," He corrected with no desire to get into with his ex again, "You know it's easier if I take her with me. My school, you know?"

She bristled up at that, standing taller than usual, "Well, I understand that, Noah, but I..."

"Mom," Felicity believed, "No offense, but he's got a point there."

"Oh...Okay." Her mother appeased glumly, attempting to hide the hurt in her voice. "Yeah, you know? You guys are right. It's fine. I'll just stay here before my shift at Vendetta."

"Okay, I love you." Her daughter reminded, "And I can't wait for you both to see my recital on Friday."

"She's the lead swan in _Swan Lake_."

"Daddy," Felicity gigged, and her using that term was different nowadays. But it honesty just slipped out, "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Sorry, but Miss Victoria told me first. And I am just so proud of you, Lissy."

"Bye, Mom." She waved, finally heading out of the front door

As it slammed shut, Donna though sure she got mom, although Noah got Daddy. Those two were so much very much alike, and they always had such a special bond from the very moment Felicity was born. They were both amazingly brilliant. Donna could barely keep up with them. She had thought and hoped during her daughter's teenagers while there would be some push back, that they could talk more - not just about boys, makeup, and her changing body. But she had unwavering hope that they would lay the groundwork for a friendship. Though, that didn't seem to be the case at all. Tucking those painful thoughts, Donna began to busy herself with chores. The blackened waffle ended up in the garbage. And Donna noted with a bitter chuckle, noting how it matched the shade of the trash bag. She washed the dirty dishes followed up with the laundry. Donna folded clothes like mad when she was upset so much so that their house began to resemble the Gap by the time she was finished with each piece of clothing.

Meanwhile, on the road, Felicity was absentmindedly smoothing out stray strands of her natural brunette tresses that matcedh her father. Granted, he had gone a little salt and pepper over the years.

"So?" Noah broke up the comfortable silence, "You want me to drop you off in front of the school?"

"Hell, no. God, I can't wait 'til I can get my learner's permit in a couple years."

"Language," Her father reprimanded, gratefully fighting the urge to use a cliche finger wag as he warned, "Don't make me kiss you on the cheek when you're around all your friends, or worse that boyfriend of yours."

She gasped, dramatically dropping the chocolate scone in her lap- the one he brought her on the commute. "You wouldn't dare."

"You wanna bet?" He challenged, smirking.

"We'd both know I'd win."

"Yeah, yeah, you probably would. Have I mentioned how I hated that your mother's already taught you about gambling?"

"Well, I am partly a Vegas girl, Dad." She reminded, reapplying her berry lip gloss, much to her father's dismay. "Besides there's a lot of mathematics involved in gambling."

"I suppose that's true." He compromised, "Hey, if you promise me something, I'll drop you off in the faculty parking lot away from all the other kids."

Now there was something that definitely piqued her interest.

"Promise you what, Daddy?" She suspected, raising an eyebrow her tone raised in a purposefully saccharine demeanor.

Sighing, her father requested, "Promise me you won't grow up too fast. Okay, kiddo?"

"As long as you're in my life, I'll always be your little girl, Daddy. I promise."

"Thank you." He smiled, eyeing his parking spot, "Now about that Oliver Queen kid..?"

"Ugh," Felicity groaned loudly, rolling her eyes, "I should've known there was more."

"You really like that guy?"

She bobbed her head, giggling at the mere thought of how deliriously happy he made made her.

"And he's a gentleman? He treats you well? He respects you?"

"Of course, Dad. I promise, if he didn't I could take him down like that." Felicity praised, noting, "But he's incredibly attentive and sweet. In fact, he's taking me out to Big Belly Burger after my recital on Friday."

Felicity's hug distracted him as she got of the car, hastily fetching her heavy bags. She walked as fast as she could to her boyfriend's locker in the senior hallway, garnering a few dirty looks on the way there. A strong, tall blonde sneaked up behind her, playfully tickling her sides.

"Oli-Oliver." She requested, her response lacing with a series of unbidden giggles, "Oliver, stop it!"

Felicity swatted his forearm as he stepped in front of her, earning her an, "Ow!"

"That wasn't very nice, you know?"

"Hm..." His eyebrow perched, stepped closer into her personal space as he leaned in. "Well, let me make it up to you."

Her eyes draped shut, puckering her lips slightly as she awaited their usual morning kiss.

Instead, he picked up heavy bags, gently grabbing her by the hand as they walked to her locker. As they reached their destination, Felicity looked at him strangely. That wasn't their usual daily routine.

"Oliver, I thought we were gonna..."

As soon as she uttered those very words, her back hit the locker, ever so comfortably cushioned by his strong calloused hand. His mouth collided into hers, doing their usual passionate dance. Their lips moved in a frenzy, desire flooding them both exponentially. He pulled away when one hand tangled in her hair, effectively undoing the bun. 

Panting, she complimented, "Mm...I love the way we say good morning."

"And good afternoon, and good night, and see ya later." He listed, letting out a breathy laugh. Oliver retreated further back as he didn't want to take it too far. After all, they were still in school, and she was four years his junior, so out of respect he returned to her side. She shot him another odd look. There was something different about him. She know what it was. In fact, it was quite obvious. But he didn't really understand the look written on her face right now.

"What? Oh, God." He worried, eyeing the expression on her face, "Baby, did I..?"

Take it too far?

"No," His girlfriend denied, stretching out the word as she fixed her bun again.

"Oh, thank good." He sighed, wiping his brow, "Well, then what is it? Is it your parents again?"

"They're being their usual annoying selves," She waved off. Her eyes were fixated on his mouth, or more specifically around it. "You shaved? I knew something felt different when you kissed me."

"I know you like the stubble."

"It is kinda sexy on you. Your parents have another lame charity event or something?"

"Unfortunately." Her boyfriend admitted, adding, "It's also for my party on Sunday because your man got accepted into Julliard."

"Oh..that's, um, great. Congratulations, Hon."

She definitely didn't sound too happy, and who would be when their boyfriend was venturing off thousands of miles away, partying with cool college girls, doing whatever he pleased with whomever he pleased?

"Hey, I'm not gonna cheat on you. I was never that guy, and I won't ever be that guy."

Crap, her brain to mouth filter had failed yet again.

"Oliver, you're four older than me."

"I'm well aware, but it's like I'm a skeevy old curmudgen. Right?"

"Well, I didn't say that. Now did I?" She chimed, her pitch rising.

"Felicity." Her boyfriend sniped, enunciating every single syllable of her name in that special way of his - just for her.

Felicity mimicked in a deep voice, "Oliver."

"Oh, now who's not being nice?"

"C'mon." His girlfriend prompted, biting her bottom lip, which Oliver immediately brushed away with the pad of his thumb, "You really think we can make this whole long distance thing work? As soon as couples say that, it's over for good. And. I-I don't want us to be over."

His blue met hers, gripping her shoulders as he declared, "Then, we'll be the exception to the rule (and they were). We'll Skype and FaceTime every chance we get. I'll visit you whenever, wherever, or you can come visit me. My parents do own a private jet, one that I can use frequently if I keep up my good grades."

"You know I can't afford that, and please don't say I'll pay for it, your mother hates me enough as it is."

"That's not true."

Felicity's hip jutted out, resting her hand that as her her cocked to side slightly when she glared at him in disbelief.

"Fine. It's sort of true, but, to be fair, she hated Samantha too."

"Because no one is good enough for Moira Queen's sweet baby boy," Felicity remembered, echoing his mother's few words to her that were now burned in her brain.

"That doesn't matter to me, and you know that." Oliver promised as he walked to her first class, "Whenever, wherever we are. We'll find a way to be together as much as we possibly can. I promise, Felicity."

"I don't think I can ever imagine leaving this place, despite all the hate I get from other girls. With you, school feels almost better than home."

He shrugged, placing her bags near her desk, "We all have to graduate sometime."

"You gonna meet me after bio?"

"Mmhm," He confirmed, pressing a fleeting smooch to her now messily glossed lips.

Felicity sighed, cupping her cheek while her eyes lingered on him as he walked away, "Bye."

Oliver and Felicity really were the exceptions to the rule They made a long-distance relationship work over the next four years, visiting each other every term break, holiday, birthday, or just any old random surprise encounter. And during the times, they couldn't physically be in the same city, they still saw each other over Skype and Facetime just like Oliver had promised in their first year together. While her parents had definitely expressed their concerns over their relationship, and the state of seriousness it was in as time flew by rapidly. Felicity couldn't give a damn. Donna and Noah wanted her to experience life more, and they even tried getting her to go a few dates with guys named Cooper and Ray. She agreed to a platonic dinner with each boy, and told Oliver all about afterwards. But she knew Oliver was her one and only one for her- albeit there was a brief amount of time when she doubted that during their engagement, and they were on a break she made that decision. Though, they found their way back to each other when a horrible crazed man named Damien Darhk brought a loaded gun to her performance of the _Nutcracker_. The intensity of her relationship with Oliver and her father's wrongdoings caused some rough friction between her and both of parents. Though, over the years those concerns were tucked away in a little locked box of her heart, and she focused on the life she built with Oliver together.

* * *

_**Present Day** _

This moment was really reminiscent of Felicity's graduation because she and Oliver spent time wandering the empty hallways. Usually, these very hallways were hustling and bustles hubs of energy filled with art, and the joy that came with it. The whir of gears, chemicals bubbling, pencils scribbling, students groaning, an array of instruments, a harmony of voices, and a constant pitter patter of steps. Light often careened through the numerous windows and skylights. However, it was the complete antithesis - desolate, quiet, and shrouded in shade from an unusually cloudy Spring day. The couple stopped at a locker with a familiar number.

"I remember this spot," Oliver smiled, a smile reached his mouth, but not his eyes.

They made their decision together, and now they had to with what was coming next. Those sentences played in Felicity's mind just like the countless times Felicity would listen to the classics, Mozart, Debussy, Beethoven, and oh so much more.

"I hope so," Felicity reminded, giggling softly at the memories they shared here for an entire year and then some. "I mean, we did kind of spend a lot of time here."

He chuckled, pulling her closer, "Tell me about it."

"Oliver, I thought we weren't gonna do this anymore. I...We..."

They engaged in a usual come hither dance that began a decade ago. One they had perfected over years, and one that had only grown much more intimate, passionate, raw, and romantic now that they had an intrinsic knowledge of each other. It was more than just the physical. It was the sensual and emotional aspects which only heightened in their marriage. Just like he had done multiple times before, her back hit the cool metal of her old locker, thankfully cushioned by his calloused hand. Their lips collided against each other in passionate frenzy, growing in need. If his grin wasn't a reminder of her husband's wild mischievous side, if they weren't careful they'd wind up doing a whole lot more in the janitor's closet. His hands roamed the expense of her back. It was the same, yet aspects of it were very different. His hands gingerly slipped under her top, caressing the scars she had earned from that one horrendous night. She puled back, brushing her nose against as she bit back a high pitched whimper against his mouth.

Her husband whispered in reassurance, his breath contrasting the warmth of his tone, "I love you so much, Felicity."

"Oliver, we're gonna get in trouble."

"We're not students anymore. C'mon, where's your sense of adventure, Mrs. Queen?"

"Oliver, Oliver, please." She objected, pushing at his chest. "Please not now. Okay?"

"Okay," Immediately regret flashed in his eyes, "I'm sorry."

"But when we get home, that's another story."

"I'm sorry." He repeated, explaining, "I was just..."

His wife figured, finishing his sentence for him, "Trying to distract me."

Oliver nodded, confirming what she already knew. They disentangled themselves from each other, readjusting their wrinkled clothes. Felicity startled like a deer in headlights when they had a large auditorium door open.

"Hi, Mr. Queen, Miss Felicity." Jenna greeted cordially, although she didn't dare look at either of them. "Um, this is my locker."

Oliver apologized as he and Felicity moved away. "Right, we're sorry."

"Um, Jenna." Felicity wondered, praying that young teen entered after her and Oliver's heated moment, "You didn't see anything, did you?"

She blushed, clearing her dry threat, "Of course not, ma'am."

"What are you doing here, kiddo?" Oliver asked, crouching down to her level as he teased his wife lovingly, "Miss Felicity's not making you work that hard, is she?"

A genuine smile broke through her meek exterior, "Nope. I just like to practice my steps as much as possible. It's pretty important, you know?"

"So I've heard," Oliver noted, looking directly at his wife.

Felicity's student spoke up again, "May I ask you a question? Fair warning, it's kinda personal."

"What's your question, Jenna?"

"Are you two really leaving Kuttler Academy?"

"Where- Where did you hear that?" Her teacher sputtered, struggling to find the right words, "We...We weren't gonna tell anyone 'til..."

Hurt slashed through Jenna's voice as she surmised, "So it is true."

"Yes." Oliver confirmed, pointing out, "But not 'til the end of this Spring quarter."

"Did you guys not like it here, or something?"

Felicity assured, "No, that's not it at all."

"Money?" She accused, zipping up a pocket with her pale pink pointe shoes.

"Passion." Oliver answered for both of them because, well, it was the truth.

"I see." Jenna sighed dejectedly, opening her locker, "Well, I know a lot of people who are really gonna miss you guys."

With that, she left the hallway, and so did the Queens. Weeks later as they were nearing their final days at Kuttler Academy, their students sent them off with a Helluva of performance. On Friday night, Felicity's students delivered a beautifully composed show called _Flowers in Bloom_ , symbolizing their journeys here at this amazing place. It was graceful, fun, yet refined and so appropriate for the season. The following night on Saturday, Oliver's students might have just given Lin-Manuel Miranda a run for his money, they put on a rousing rendition of _Hamilton_. Each performance showcased an array of talents in acting, singing, dancing, and rapping. As their students took their final bows, Oliver and Felicity shared a chaste side hug, and a mutual exchange of toothy grins. They really would miss this place, but they also knew it was time to go off on their next adventure together. They had returned to Gotham, readying to start work on _On Pointe_ together.


	4. Gone, But Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity's lives post-Kuttler Academy are what they always hoped it would be. But do they still have regrets, and what other surprises are in store?

( _Originally via 405 "Haunted"_ )

Oliver and Felicity were crouched down together slightly, watching the playback from _On Pointe_ 's season finale director, Kim Haughton's, angle. The camera revealed a perfectly pointed foot in a pale pink pointe shoes, panning up to reveal ribbon, matching tights, a tutu, a top of a leotard, and finally Jules herself, or rather her character, an aspiring professional ballerina, Carly Vallans. For the past six months Oliver had been playing her love interest yet again, Alexander Warner, a renowned New York chef who won over the dancer's heart over several lunch meetings at his restaurant Warner & Co. Felicity was the show's dance coordinator and choreographer, making sure the moves fit each actor, and that they looked correct on screen.

Kim silently looked to Felicity as if she was asking, "Do you think that looks good from a dance perspective?"

"Yeah," Felicity breathed, a puff of air expelling on this cold day on the East Coast, only at the very beginning of fall.

"Alright," Kim clapped, walking over to center stage. "Then that's a wrap on Jules, and on season one of _On Pointe_."

At the very end of the show, the script coordinator announced each member of the main cast as well as the guest stars for the episode. Oliver and Julie were the last two to be called out to one of the five primary set pieces, Carly's loft. The live audience applauded as did Felicity, who was still standing beside Kim with a huge smile on her face. Her pride for her husband beamed from her toothy grin to her bright blue eyes, which were framed with her signature glasses. Showrunners Susan and Robert Downes delivered a lovely bouquet of a dozen lush pink roses for Julie, and a little something extra, a box of chocolates nut-free for their dance coordinator and choreographer, Felicity. She was quite surprised, evidenced by her mouth that was left slightly agape.

On that note, Oliver winked, signaling, "We couldn't do this show without, Baby."

"Aww," His wife mouthed, looking directly at him, "I love you, Honey."

"Love you too." He replied back in a whisper before his attention was redirected back to the cheerful audience by his co-star.

Julie lightly smacked his clothed pec, a bright knowing smile adorning her face. A producer suggested every audience member keep up their rousing and well-deserved applause for the cast. With that each of the five main cast members and two showrunners all linked hands, and took a simultaneous bow.

A few hours later, the new Netflix's show cast and crew celebrated their season one accomplishment, knowing they were already picked up for season two come next Spring. Twenty episodes, twelve to sixteen hour work days for a show that was in its infantile stage. The concept of the show was nothing new, but the character's personalty, graceful dancers, and well-written story lines hooked a slew of critics and fans since before the pilot even aired. The cast had a party at the London Hotel in Gotham, right down the street from Wayne Enterprises. Oliver donned a Tom Ford sleek black tux with a royal blue tie, a crisp white shirt, polished dress shoes, and a Rolex watch accented with a blue face. Felicity wore a simple black strapless dress by an up and coming designer from Detroit, Mari McCabe. It was from her recent Fall line, Vixen. She paired the sexy, yet tasteful number with amazing suede ankle boots in charcoal black with that classic red bottom of a Christian Louboutin shoe. A metallic clutch and matching geometric hoop earrings by Jessica Simpson not only completed the ensemble, but they matched Felicity's most favorite accessories of all, her engagement and wedding rings. 

The Queens danced the night away, kick it off with an upbeat Swing number. Granted, Oliver wasn't much of a dancer. He literally stepped on a few toes when they were showing off their moves. However, Felicity thought it was absolutely adorable because he was trying so very hard. And they both knew he was doing it specifically for her and only her due to the fact that she loved dancing so much. And she didn't just love ballet. After their dance, they snacked on an array of high-end appetizers. The party was catered by none other than New York's hometown boy, Food Network chef and TV personality, Bobby Flay. Oliver had quite the opportunity to shadow Bobby a couple weeks before they filmed the pilot episode in prep for his role as a New York chef. Luckily, for him, Oliver knew his way pretty well around a kitchen, although there were some aspects that needed fine tuning like his knife cuts, chopping skills, and a lighter hand when it came to presenting a fine dining meal. Felicity dipped an umptious sunbutter cheesecake lollipop under the decadent stream of a massive chocolate fountain.

"Want a bite?" His wife prompted happily, holding the delicious little dessert mere centimeters away from his lips.

His face was plastered in the same smile he wore when he saw Raisa's souffle as a young kid.

"Sure," He answered, opening his mouth. But then he saw it - this glint of mischievous behavior that was hidden between his wife's loving eyes. She had the same look in her eyes at their engagement party and their wedding. Both times cream cheese frosting ended up smeared all around his face and even a bit up his nose. He figured she would do the same with the smooth, runny melted dark chocolate. "Wait a minute."

Felicity interrupted him, cleanly sticking the lollipop right in his open mouth, "See, I can be nice."

"Whew," Her husband breathed a sigh of relief, speaking as he chewed on the yummy, but small bite, "I really thought you were gonna..."

"Julie!" She called out, "Now!"

Oliver couldn't dodge the surprise attack before it was too late. His friend revealed her position from under their dessert table, smashing an orange liquor cupcake right over his mouth.

The girls chimed in unison, high-fiving each other as they looked quite pleased with themselves "Gotcha."

"Ha ha. Very funny, you two." Oliver spoke up, not sounding the least bit amused. Although, that annoyance dissipated quickly, dimples pooling in his cheeks as he his wiped his face with a power blue paper napkin.

Julie returned to Ben's side, giving Felicity a low five and a wink as she passed by, heading off into the crowd.

Giggling, she acknowledged, "Poor baby, let me help you."

He moaned in mock pity like a Golden Retrieve puppy when Felicity grabbed another napkin, aiding in the clean up process.

"Am I good?" Oliver asked, gesturing around his jaw.

His wife eyed carefully, squinting her eyes. Geez, it was harder to see with her contacts.

Despite that, Felicity instructed, "Almost Lick your lips."

He did just that, and something about that move always made her temperature spike ever so slightly. Though, they were both know they couldn't leave the party any earlier. The ever annoying constant presence of paparazzi in their lives was probably waiting outside. Sometimes photogs were bad in Star City, and that was exactly why Oliver got arrested a few times in his late teens. He punched them out with an excellent right hook. If they exited party early, tabloids were going to have a field day, writing a ludicrous story about how Oliver and Felicity actually hate the show and his co-stars/crew. Or maybe that Felicity was jealous of Julie Austen because she had to do a love scene with her husband in the fifteenth episode. And that couldn't be father from the truth. Felicity gigged again at the mere thought of it.

"Mm, you look happy. What'cha thinking about, Hon?"

"Episode 115."

"Oh, yeah we had an amazing night after that." Oliver remembered, fighting the urge to reveal the grin that crept on his face.

She coaxed in a sultry whisper, "We can have another one tonight, if you aren't too tired, old man."

"Need I remind you, Felicity, a) I'm only four years older than you and b) I'm never gonna be too tired for that ever."

Keeping that in mind, her fire engine creamy red lipstick marked his own pillowy lips, leaving remnants of the makeup behind.

* * *

**_Five Weeks Ago  
_ **

The _On Pointe_ cast was on their first few days of filming episode fifteen of season. This episode had a major love scene in it between Julie and Oliver's characters Carly and Alex. Felicity and Ben watched from the side of the sound stage, avoiding the director's Antonio Ricci's path. Ben and Felicity shot their spouses exaggerated and feigned, "I'm watching you," Ben and Felicity understood from both working in the entertainment business that moments like these were just acting. And what the Queens and Austen-Shulmans had off-screen was true love supplemented by real passion, honesty, and trust. Although, Oliver and Julie were no strangers to love scenes together. In fact, back when they were working on _Artemis_ Julie had to do her very love scene with Oliver. They talked it about extensively as they did this one. They made each other laugh quite often throughout the four hour time span it took to film Julie's very first love scene. Oliver was a gentleman, draping his discarded shirt or a sheet over her bare torso, asking if she was alright on occasion during moments when she trembled or bit her lip. They praised each other's professionalism, and really wnt for it to make scene seem real. That was also their first time working with Antonio. Fans would say that Antonio always brought the steaminess to shoot days. This scene for their new show was no exception.

"Rolling," an assistant director queued, counting down, "Sound."

Antonio yelled from his director's chair, "Action!"

With black duffel bag slung on her, Julie in character as Carly walks down a hospital blue corridor - set to be Oliver's character Alex's apartment.

Carly rapped at the door with a bronze 8C on it, the hinges creak as it opened,

Oliver in character as Alex looked perplexed as he asked, "Julie, what? What are you doing here? You followed me home?"

"No...Yes. Well, okay I know that's a little crazy."

He interrupted, letting her in while Alex thought, "This isn't gonna turn into some insane _Fatal Attraction_ thing, is it?"

"Hell, no!" She shouted, pacing the floor.

"Um..." Alex offered hesitantly, guiding her to the butter yellow couch. "Here, take a load off, and then do you mind telling me what's going on?"

Carly sat down, but immediately stood right back up.

Her face was masked with the perfect amount of anger.

"Alex, you don't get to me how to live my life. I'm a fucking fantastic dancer."

"Really?" Alex raised an eyebrow, heading back to his home kitchen, "You see that now?"

Carly stated adamantly, "Yeah, I do."

"Then why did I find a tutu and pointe shoes in the dumpster behind my restaurant?"

"Because- because," She stuttered, struggling to find the right words, "I let Chrissy's mom get in my head. Okay?"

"Really? That's your excuse?" He asked in disbelief, tending to his sizzling steak and eggs in his cast iron pan.

"What did you just say to me?" Frustration billowed when Carly took the liberty of shutting off his stove.

"Hey, just because you're mad, doesn't mean you can take it out on my food."

"God damn, you must really like the sound of your own voice."

He retorted confidently with a snort, "I do actually, but not as much as I like you."

"Say what?" Carly's voice rose in pitch as she stepped back to the kitchen island.

"You heard me. Actually, I more than like you. I'm in love you, and I have  been since I was fourteen when I had to watch you dance with Max instead me. I'm not gonna let you give up on your dream. You're amazing, Carly, and I... Never mind. Let me just show you."

"One, I know that now." She confirmed as he walked over to her, "Two, I think it's my turn to ask what are you doing?"

In answer to her question, he confidently crossed the space between them, pressing an ardent kiss to her mouth.

"Just to be clear." Alex exhaled, pulling away if only for a brief moment, "I'm not being too forward, am I?"

Ben and Felicity both bit back chuckles at that line.

She kissed him back with equal fervor, asking with a smile, "Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah," He huffed out a whisper, smile broadly before the on-screen couple engaged into another heated lip lock.

Alex hoisted Carly up into his arms, holding her at the backs of her knees before he plopped her down on the shiny marble kitchen island.

Before they continued, Carly broke the comfortable silence, telling him in the most heartfelt, yet casual way, "By the way, just so we're clear, I love you, too."

"I was hoping you did," He breathed out another soft laugh, shaking his head.

It was a good thing the show was Netfix because the on-screen couple depicted quite the passionate rendezvous. She ripped open his navy blue dress shirt, buttons flying everywhere. He hiked up her pink and blue floral dress with his fingertips skimming her bare inner thigh. They shared an array of showy kisses, nips, pecks, and moans all the while with their spouses watching. Despite that, Felicity and Ben knew those noises of supposed pleasure were faked. After all, they were the only ones who knew what Oliver and Julie sounded like in bed.

Now shirtless, as her dress fell against the set kitchen floor, Alex's body blanketed hers, Subtly breaking character, it was barely audible, but Oliver whispered to his co-star gently, "You okay?"

"Yeah." She assured in a hushed tone, adopting a growl in her silly monster voice, "Let's get it on,"

"Oh, geez." Oliver laughed, fully breaking character like glass.

Antonio waved the script, chuckling as he attempted to yell, "C-Cut!"

"You know what, guys? It's fine. We have to break for lunch anyway."

"Okay," Oliver chuckled, nearly doubling over as happy tears shined in his eyes, "Damn it, woman. You get me every time."

Slipping back into her blue and pink floral frock, "What can I say, Ollie? I'm a true professional."

"Yeah, sure." He waved off, snagging another shirt hidden in a lower cabinet, "Since it's lunch, where's my wife?"

"Already heading to craft services." Felicity announced, heading to the table for some yummy salmon and lox, "Hurry up, slowpoke."

Oliver caught up quickly, running after her. He gently grabbed her hand, pulling her against him as he whispered in her ear - just for her. "You know I'm in love with you and only you. Right?"

"I'm not mad," His wife reassured honestly, fixating on the tan line from his husky wedding band. "I trust you. And Julie, she's a sweetheart."

Still though, he vowed again in a low tone, reciting a bit from his wedding vows, "You're my always."

"I know." She figured, but it was still nice to hear that he remembered after two years of marriage, "I love you."

"Love you too." He declared, his breath still tickling her ear, "And when we got back to our loft we can have some pasta, wine, and _dessert_."

"Oh," Felicity chimed, suspecting his intentions, "What kind of dessert?"

"Hmm... The kind that leaves you wanting more. The kind that makes you _agree_ with me a lot."

"Multiple times?" His wife challenged, planting a chaste kiss to his stubbly chin.

His promise was so quiet, yet oh so laden with lust, "Yeah, until you beg me to stop."

They untangled themselves from each other when they saw Julie walk with two plates and Ben by her side.

"Hey, Ollie. Hey 'Lis." Their friend greeted, handing her a white paper plate with salmon and lox, "'Lis, I got you your favorite."

"Aw." Felicity pointed out, noting each item on her plate, "She even remembered the lemon wedge and green onion cream cheese. This one doesn't even do that for me."

Her husband snapped sharply, clearly affronted, "Hey, I forgot one time."

"Yeah, one time every day this week,"

"Ooh," Julie jeered, holding up her hand for a high-five, "Burn."

Felicity commented, linking arms with her friend, "Men."

"Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

She laughed at that, "I know right," as they walked away.

"What just happened here?" Ben's face crumpled in confusion.

"Don't know." Oliver replied, thinking aloud, "But our wives spend way too much time together."

"Ben," Julie called hence.

Felicity added, patting the wide empty space between them, "Oliver. C'mon, let's eat."

"Coming!"

As he finally sat down to eat, Felicity rested her head against Oliver's chest. And when they got home that night their libidos might've rivaled when they went to Bali for the honeymoon. When he tented the bed sheet between her legs. He pressed teasing little kisses and nips to her inner thigh, slick with her previous arousal just as he reached her center.

Before he could continue doing anything more with that talented mouth of his, she raised up their bed sheet further.

"Honey, honey, honey. Stop. Just kiss me good night, and let's sleep." His wife cautioned, tugging at the sweaty strands of his damp hair, "If you keep this up, I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow, and that's when I have to teach Jules a pas de chat."

"Okay, okay." He paused, escaping the stifling heat of their sheets as he headed over to his side. "I'm sorry."

She felt the mattress dip at his side, pulling him over to spoon, "Don't apologize. You were amazing tonight."

"Oh, just tonight. Huh?" He teased, swooping down to press a final chaste kiss to her mouth. Felicity moaned slightly, tasting subtle remains of herself on his lips.

Felicity relented, correcting as she snuggled closer, "Every night."

Spent, they fell asleep together. Both with not a single stitch on them, tangling their legs in a combination of each other, and their rumpled bed sheets.

* * *

  _ **Present Day** _

Felicity had a margarita that had a pineapple cut in the shape of a ballet slipper. Oliver nursed a dark ale beer to lips as they remained at each others sides. After Felicity finished her margarita and Oliver had another beer, they waltzed up on stage together, clearly buzzed. Felicity draped Oliver's suit jacket over, leaving it askew.

"Baby, Babe," Oliver coaxed, slurring his words somewhat, "Let-Let's let's sing our song."

"Okay, yeah. Let's sing our son," She gigged, pointing to someone in the crowd, "JLD?"

Jean-Luc Dinsdale, the sound effects operator on the show, knowing queued up Maroon 5's "She Will Be Loved". They had first met at one of Felicity's ballet performance. That was an originally composed classical piece. But Maroon 5 was playing in the cafeteria during their very first kiss, and Felicity's first kiss ever.

Oliver sang poorly, hitting sharp notes that weren't there:

 _Beauty queen of only eighteen she_  
_Had some trouble with herself_  
_He was always there to help her, she_  
_Always belonged to someone else_

Felicity continued in a higher pitch than it needed it to be:

 _I drove for miles and miles and wound up_  
_At your door_  
_I've had you so many times but somehow I want more_

By the end of the song, they sang together in a horrible harmony:

_And she will be loved, and she will be loved_

_Please don't try so hard to say good-bye_  
_I don't mind spendin' everyday, out on your corner in the pourin' rain_  
_Please don't try so hard to say good-bye_

They were still both coherent enough to know how they sounded, but people always sound better after some good adult beverages. They definitely had fun with it, being big hams they joined hands and took their bows. The night came to a fun close. Ralph, their limo driver, dropped the Queens and the Austen-Shulman's off to their respective abodes. Thankfully, he narrowly avoided the paparazzi. Instead of the seductive dinner date they planned, they both regained a level head after being a bit buzzed. They chewed on some crunchy, slightly burnt toasted coupled with a cup of a Russian hang over cure. Oliver's friend Antoly, a stunt coordinator on _Titan_ gave him the recipe. The taste seemed like it was pickle juice brine mixed with lemon and line. However, strangely it had a thick tomato-y viscosity. Felicity fell asleep on top of Oliver around 2AM that with her dress half on, her bare boobs pressed to his chest. Having done this before, he helped his wife change into a thick cotton t-shirt and long warm thermal socks. He stripped down to his sweats, succumbing to sleep under cool green sheets and his very warm wife.

* * *

 Sunlight careened through window, waking the Queen couple much too early, especially considering the fact that they had hit the hay well past midnight.

"Mmm...Oliver, my love," Felicity murmured drearily into his bare skin, flopping one side of her hair back.

With his hand splayed out on the small of her back, his voice still rough from sleep, "You get it."

"Oliver, please." She requested desperately, pricking his side with her nails - just enough to give him a feel not hurt, "I'm so tired."

Her husband responded gruffly, hating that he had to leave their bed, "Yes, dear."

Oliver cursed the morning, planking from the bed like a push up. His bare feet padded against their soft white shag carpet, drawing their gray curtains closed.

"Better, lazy ass?" He teased lovingly, swooping down to press a messy kiss to her lips, which still had remains of red lipstick.

"Mmhm," Felicity hummed contently, eyes remaining shut, "Now come back to bed. I need at least three more hours of sleep and Oliver-snuggles."

"You're lucky you're cute." He told her, getting into bed on his side before he nestled in their original positions, "you know that, right?"

"And you know I'm only like this sometimes because you love me," His wife commented, finally daring to open both of her eyes

Running his fingertips through her dyed blonde locks, his nose brushed against hers, "That's so easy to do because you're you."

"Even when I'm being difficult."

He shrugged, "I wouldn't know because in ten years, I've never seen you as being difficult."

"Liar," she accused playfully.

"Sleep, Felicity, just sleep."

They slept in past ten o'clock, and lately that had been quite a rare treat what with their production and filming schedule. Though, now they had just over two months off before they began work on season two of _On Pointe_. The show was like lightning in a bottle - an instant hit, so it was no surprise as to why it got picked up for a second season. They could do whatever they pleased in Gotham, although often times they found themselves missing home. And home was always very much with each other. However, that didn't mean there were certain times they didn't miss Star City. They missed Thea, Dig, Lyla, and their especially their former students. They often thought about their time at Kuttler Academy on their daily walk through Central Park. The couple had a nice brunch at Atlier cafe - munching on crepes, Eggs Benedict, and fresh seasonal fruit.

"You ready to go?" His wife wondered, a hot latte in a to-go cup with extra sugar flooding her lips after she spoke.

"Uh-huh." Oliver nodded, pulling out his chocolate brown leather wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. "Just gotta pay the bill."

"My treat." She offered, pulling out her crimson pocketbook from her onyx colored purse, "I do owe you something, Mr. big fancy actor on a hit show."

"It was your wrap party too, Mrs. Very important choreographer." He rationalized, raising his eyebrows as their gaze fell on each other. "Allow me."

"I got this." She believed, not taking her hand off the pocketbook for one single solitary second, "I'm an independent woman, you know."

"Okay, Beyonce." Her husband retorted, suggesting, "Let's split the bill and go Dutch."

"Fair enough."

Their brunch bill was finally paid by the time the waiter returned to their booth with half of Oliver's money and half of Felicity's as well. They walked through Central park arm-in-arm, sipping on their last remains of coffee. Unfortunately, Felicity finished hers first, much to her displeasure.

Her husband offered, thrusting his disposable travel cup in her hand, "Want a sip?"

"Um, I'll try it." Felicity hesitated, knowing how her husband preferred his boring black coffee.

The now cold liquid grazed her mouth, cheeks puffing in disgust. Her gag reflex was in big trouble, if she even so much as attempted trying to swallow that bitter liquid. Ugh, what did Oliver like coffee this way? Not only was a bitter. It was bland. His coffee needed a splash of nice cold whole milk, a sprinkle of sugar, followed by a sprinkle of some extra sugar.

"My poor baby," Oliver said in a cutesy voice, patting her back in consolation as he directed, "There's a trash can right over there."

Her black boots clomped against the pavement unevenly. She nosily spewed out her rather large sip of coffee right in a nearby garbage can. Felicity scrambled to find a pack of mints or gum, scouring through every pocket of her purse.

"Aw, man. I'm out. Hon, do you have any gum?"

"Nope," He said, warning as something fell out of her purse, "Baby, be careful."

"What?" She pondered, taking note of his gritted teeth. She quickly picked up her Epi-pen, "Can't lose my meds."

"You ready to go home?"

"Yeah."

For the next couple of hours, they mulled around the house. Felicity cleaned while Oliver prepared dinner for later that night. For awhile their house was sheathed in a fairly comfortable silence. That was until the mail, Oliver had just assumed it was bills and junk mail. Though, something was really bothering his wife. He could just tell by the way she began to fold laundry incessantly, muttering to herself.

"Felicity, Honey, what's wrong? And don't say nothing."

His wife slowly plopped down on the couch. Oliver sat on his haunches beside her, and he waited for her to speak after grabbing two glasses of water.

With a clear of her throat, Felicity informed, coming through a short stack of mail, "Look what we got."

His eyes instantly recognized the familiar fancy letterhead - Kuttler Academy.

"Their Fall showcase is coming up next week." Oliver surmised, gauging the glimmer of regret in his wife's eyes, "We got an invite. That's nice."

"I guess we're gone, but not forgotten." Felicity continued, glasses slipping a little as her eyes were fixated on the letter.

Oliver observed, pushing at her frames carefully, "You don't look too happy. We have time off, so we can take a weekend to head back to Star City and see the show."

Her hand skimmed the expanse of his bare arm, intertwining their fingertips, "Do you think they hate us for leaving the way we did?"

"I mean, granted, we won't be on the best terms with them, but I think we'll be fine." Her husband assured, the pad of thumb contrasting her supple skin, "It's gonna be fun."

When they flew out a couple nights before the showcase, it was indeed fun. They watched a slew of amazing performances - dancing, acting, rapping, singing, and even a comedy act. They didn't patch things up with Dig overnight, but they left on better terms.  Some former students shot them dirty looks because they chose passion over sustainable careers - albeit _On Pointe_ ran on surprisingly long. The show had a six season deal, one hundred twenty episodes, syndication, and could be viewed on platforms other than Netflix. Some students just really missed them - no matter how little term they spent teaching. Felicity still continued to be a dance coordinator for the show, but over the years she finally found time to open her own dance studio -Dancing Queen. As seasons went on, Oliver and Julie got both got paid high salaries. In their five years in Gotham, they still found time for each other and their marriage. In fact, after a romantic trip to Paris that served as a second honeymoon of sorts, six weeks later, they discovered she was pregnant. Seven and a half months after that, Felicity gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. They decided to name her Amelia Grace Queen.

* * *

**_Four Years After Moving to Gotham_ **

Two year old, Mia requested, "Dadda, night-night kiss please?"

"Hey!" Her mother interjected, feigning offense, "What about me?"

The toddler propped up on her knees, grasping an edge her lavender tutu, she smiled. Mia then cupped Felicity's face like she had seen her dadda do some many times before. With her blue eyes wide open, she planted a wet messy smooch to her mother's nose.

"All better now, mama?"

"Hmm." Felicity thought, looking up the ceiling, "Not quite."

That was Oliver's cue. He gave Felicity a good night kiss, and then Mia. Felicity gave Mia a kiss of her own. Finally, Mia endured a surprise visit from two very familiar tickle monsters. Oliver and Felicity smooched one side of their daughter's cheeks in unison.

"Kiddo, it's almost bed time." Her father warned, checking his watch.

"Nuh-uh," She denied, walking over to the bookshelf as she reached on her tip toes for a thin blue book sitting on a low shelf, "Story time."

She walked back, laughing as she passed a lot of gas for someone so small, "Mama?"

"Yes, Mia."

"I tooted," Mia giggled, amused by the sound of her own fart.

"Really? No way! Actually, Mommy and I heard." Oliver prompted, resiliently trying not to laugh with her, "What do you say?"

She remembered, "'Scuse me."

"Do you have to go potty, sweetie?" Felicity wondered, eyeing the bathroom door.

"No," Her daughter denied, drawing out the word as she insisted, "Story time."

Oliver looked at the front cover, "That's not a story book, kiddo."

"Huh?" She chimed, holding the book upside down, "Aw, Frack."

Oliver chided, enunciating every single syllable of his wife's name, "Felicity."

"Sorry." His wife muttered sheepishly, adjusting her ponytail.

"What is this, Mama?"

"It's something with a lot of pictures. It's called a yearbook, showing fun times in school. You'll get one when you're older."

"Yeah." Oliver continued, sitting with his girls on either side of his lap, "You know, Mommy and I went to school together."

"Mmhm, that was where it all started." Felicity added, taking off her daughter's shoes before bed.

Indeed it was, things may have ended on not so great terms at Kuttler Academy, although it would always hold a special place in their hearts. It was their second home, where they met, where they fell in love, where they rediscovered themselves and their passions in life. School days were a distant memory. However, they would never forget Kuttler Academy. While they couldn't teach there after the bridge they burned with Walter and even Dig professionally, they donated to the private high school throughout the years, visited frequently, and were regulars at every Fall showcase.


End file.
